Every Step of the Way
by Elillierose
Summary: When Aizawa (Eraserhead) goes missing, it becomes a race against the clock to save him in time. Kidnapped and tortured for answers, he does what he can to hold out until others can arrive. But, as time passes, their interrogation methods pick up in intensity and brutality. With the aftermath being as it is, there's one person that can help lift Aizawa back up. (Blind!Aizawa)
1. Missing Person

**Beta read by: SinikkavonWolperting and DragonRiderSayomi**

 **This will be a Aizawa-centered fic, and it will get dark. I'm talking torture, PTSD depression and the like. So, just a warning.**

 **Strong bromance between Aizawa and Hizashi is to come. ;D**

 **Alright, so recently Sinikka has introduced me to this anime/manga, which I have been reading religiously for the last few days. XD Seriously, I am uttering consumed by it, especially Aizawa. So, wanted to take a crack at writing some fanfiction for it. Now, I am new to the fandom, so I may not be 100% accurate with things, but I promise to try my best, and I hope you all enjoy. :D**

* * *

His pen tapped rhythmically against the table, increasing in speed as his irritation grew. Next to him, Hizashi sat there, carrying out the same task of grading papers, headphones in ears as he tapped his foot and bobbed his head with the beat, the rather loud and blaring beat. On the contrary, Aizawa's eye twitched with each and every note that filtered through his skull. And, despite all his exasperated sighs and glares, the other was unaware of the frustration he was creating.

Taking a deep breath, the man switched over to his computer, quickly typing something out before clicking send. With that done, he glanced over when he heard the 'ding' next to him, signalling the success of the transfer. Pausing from his own mini party, the blond's brows rose in curiosity as he read the name on the email and glanced over to the other. Seriously, they were right next to each other. Nonetheless, he opened the mail and began to scan over it, his lips pursing as he read the words:

 _If I wanted to listen to music, I would have gone to a concert. Turn it down, you're making my ears bleed._

His eyes narrowed and he glared over, leaning back to cross his arms. "What's wrong with a little music?!" he asked, voice unnaturally loud as he attempted to hear himself over his tunes. "If you have a problem with it, then you can just go- Hey, not cool!" he exclaimed as the headphones were effectively plucked from his head, exposing just how loud and obnoxiously he was yelling.

"You're too loud, and I would really like to get these graded without any distractions" the dark-haired man mumbled, rubbing at his eyes with the back of his hand and turning back to the task at hand now that he was able to work in relative peace. Although, much to his dismay, his pen hadn't been scribbling long before he sensed a face...far too close to his own, urging him to lean a few inches away. "You mind?" he questioned with a have exhale.

"You alright?" the other asked, catching Aizawa off guard. Where did that come from? He turned to meet the other's gaze, and he was actually being completely serious. "Usually you're pretty tolerable, but right now you seem a bit touchy," he explained in an accusing tone. "Look, if you're not up to it, I don't think going home will hurt, these tests aren't going anywhere."

The other blinked heavily a few times, at a loss for words for a few seconds. "I'm fine," he replied, taking his free hand to run through his locks, ruffling them slightly as he took a deep breath. "Just want to get this done so I can go home and go to sleep," he said, rather casually. Leaving it at that, he continued with his work, making it clear that that was the end of their conversation. And, with an unsure expression, and a concerned look in his eyes, the other did the same, not wanting to push it if it was clearly unwarranted.

They kept this up for another half an hour before Aizawa leaned back and stretched his arms with an elongated yawn. Pressing the palms of his hands against his eyes, he tried to will the oncoming throbs behind them from creeping up any further. He was used to being tired, but here lately, the struggle to stay asleep had been a real one. Almost every time, without fail, as soon as he was deep in slumber something, he didn't know what, disturbed him from it. Noises from outside, but there was never anyone, or anything, there upon inspection.

"You know what?" he said groggily after a few more moments, "I think you're right. I'm going to call it a day, I'll finish these in the morning." In one fluid motion, he pushed his chair out and got to his feet; it was going to be a long walk home, there was no doubt about that.

Hizashi turned to face him just as he approached the door. "Alright, man, see you tomorrow then. Don't stay up too late," he joked, offering a quick thumbs up as the other returned a small wave of farewell and a muttered "Yeah".

The moment that crisp evening breeze hit him, it served to breathe some wakefulness back into him. Taking a deep inhale of the refreshment, he went on his way, practically dragging his feet as he went, his shoulders slightly slumped. As he strolled onward, his eyes occasionally darted to the sky as the last of the light fled the area, being consumed and absorbed by the white specs that took its place. And, with the day turning its back on the world, along came his exhaustion once more. To his displeasure, he still wasn't even half-way there, that knowledge dragged an annoyed sigh out of his lungs.

He really needed to move close, or invest in a bike or something, these long and tedious walks were starting to annoy him to no end. But, with the promise of his bed, and maybe a cup of coffee, he kept his pace consistent and ignored his body's pleas for some sort of rest. Putting one foot in front of the other, his left paused mid-stride, his eyes cutting over to the side as he listened more closely. He could have sworn he heard something, but as he gazed towards where he thought it to come from, there was nothing within sight.

For a few seconds more, he held that position, staring at nothing until he chalked it off to his stressed mind and muddled imagination. Rubbing the back of his neck and mumbling to himself, he carried on, albeit much more wary of his surroundings. He didn't care if that made him paranoid or not, with all the happenings as of late, he wasn't willing to let his guard down, especially when alone as he was. Unknowingly, his pace quickened, his feet developing a mind of their own as they carried him forward with their own agenda.

Dark eyes scanned the areas in front of him as well as in his peripherals, keeping a sharp look out for anything out of the ordinary. Of course, deep down, he was sure he was unreasonable, but on the surface… He paused again, knowing for a fact that he heard steps this time, and he spun on the spot, only to be introduced to empty space once again.

"How long do you plan on hiding yourself?" he asked aloud, narrowing his eyes in anticipation. He was only a few feet from his apartment now, but if he were truly being followed, then leading them there was the last thing he wanted to do. His capturing weapon flared to life, as if it had a life of its own, at the sudden sound coming from behind him. Now, there was no doubt about it: He definitely wasn't alone out here.

His hands twitched at his sides as the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end; he didn't know what it was, but something about all this was making him incredibly uneasy. "Why so jumpy?" The voice and question caught him off guard, eliciting him to spin on the spot and face the newcomer. In less than a second, his hair lifted from his features and a surge of energy currented through him at the activation of his quirk.

"And you are?" he asked, holding the man with his unblinking stare, unwilling to release his unwavering hold on the man. He didn't look like much, sickly, even, but that meant little in the world they occupied.

The other man said nothing, merely just stared back with a more than amused grin marring his expression. It wasn't befitting with the rest of him, coming across as out of place and forced. Then, after another couple of seconds, he finally opened his mouth, his pale and dimmed eyes glistening with an edge of sadism that made the hero's skin crawl. "Eraserhead," he greeted, his casual way of speaking only causing more unrest to churn in the man's core, "what a lovely surprise it is to see you here. I was just passing through, and wouldn't you know it?" He chuckled to himself and pressed the palm of his hand against his forehead in mock surprise. "Now, what's with that look? I'm not here to hurt you," he laughed, finding genuine amusement out of Aizawa's reactions to his presence. "But, I can't speak on behalf of the others."

Before he could question, or even process what was said, the man was forced to dodge a sudden attack from his left. Another came immediately after, and with all the debris and dust rising from the avoided attacks, he struggled to make anything out. With his vision obscured, he was provided with only one option, and that was to continue working his way back. He was given very little time to counter these attacks, it was like they knew...knew exactly how to deal with him. And, the next thing he knew he was up against a wall, his back pressed against it with nowhere else to go. But, he could see the attacker, a large, yet slow, individual who stood a few feet away, and he set him with his gaze. Breaths heaving, he stood straight, prepared to take another step forward.

However, another chill ran through him, right through his insides and a tingle trickled down his back. Then, it was there, an odd and unsettling pressure from within and his breath hitched. "You so much as twitch, and I'll squeeze the life outta ya," came a new voice, muffled and feminine. So, that made three of them then.

He found himself unable to move; not from fear, but from the sheer pain. He couldn't draw in a deep enough breath, his lungs refused to expand any further. "Well, you heard her," the first of the three shrugged, stepping closer. "Considering your life is literally in her hands, I'd do what she said," he suggested, now a few inches from the hero. "Unless you think you can survive two collapsed lungs."

Aizawa clenched his teeth and his nails bit into the palms of his hands. Slowly, he rotated his head, trying his damnedest to catch a glimpse of what was behind him. However, the moment he turned the slightest amount, the pressure increased, causing him to expel what little oxygen he had left in him. And, he struggled to draw in more, no, he couldn't take another breath. In a moment of panic, he instinctively kicked back, his foot only connecting with wall. It made no sense, not unless...unless they were going through the wall? His heart dropped as realization set in, and the meaning of the sensation he felt. ' _Life is literally in her hands…'_

"You get it now, don't you?" who he assumed the leader to be asked, stepping to stand next to him. With a tap against the wall, he ordered a joyful, "Hey, ease up will ya? Can't have 'em dead." That was all it took, and he instantly gasped in air, colors flashed across his vision as he took in greedy inhales.

"The hell...you want?" he asked between pants, the fact that the hold was still on him causing his heart to thrum against his ribs. He hated, despised, how he allowed himself to get cornered like this so easily; he wanted to blame it on the lack of sleep, but somehow, deep down, he knew that was nothing more than an excuse. These guys obviously had this planned, they had been waiting on him. Why, he had no idea, but he'd rather not find out.

The grey man rounded to the other side just as the last of the dust subsided, revealing the entirety of the large man that had been previously assaulting him. His appearance, it was almost that of stone, his skin grainy and his features sharp. "Golem," the head guy called out, "cover his eyes, will you; they are far too troublesome to keep exposed like that."

He was helpless to do anything as a cloth was lifted, fluttering carelessly in the wind as it was held teasingly in front of him. If it weren't for the risk of having some of his organs ripped from his body, this would have been an easy fight. This is what he got for playing so sloppily into their hands though, if anyone was to blame for this, it was him, and the binding that was tied around his eyes was the result of that.

Just like that, the world was cut off as the material was secured in place, effectively blocking everything out. "As for what we want, well, it's simple really," he went on, his steps resounding off the wall behind him. "We just want to have a bit of a chat. However, speaking out here, in the open as we are, it's too risky. We can't have someone overhearin'. I'm sure you understand the severity of being caught in the open," he nearly purred, causing Aizawa to shudder. He couldn't help but grit his teeth against his own frustration. "Miss Houdini," he muttered, addressing the woman, "you know what to do."

"Roger that!" she replied gleefully, the strain on his lungs increasing instantly, this time even more so than the last as it squeezed any air out of them and prevented from any more being sucked in. Every gasp he took ended in failure, never able to get anything out other than a struggled wheeze or a strained whine. The agony it created was damn near excruciating as fire danced in his chest, its unrelenting flames reaching as far up as his throat. Nausea and dizziness both attacked at once, his racing pulse only causing the assailants to rage more.

His senses were balancing on the edges of unconsciousness as blood rang in his ears, deafeningly as all other sounds faded into the background, into white noise. This was it, there was nothing he could do anymore. As the strength dwindled from his limbs, and as his knees buckled, only then did the pressure release from his lungs. But, at that point, it was already too late; he couldn't get back up, his body denied him its cooperation. His fingers twitched, gliding over the pavement with their efforts to move. Croaks found their way out of his throat, but no words would form as everything was hastily slipping from his grasp. Before he knew it, all was snatched away altogether, abandoning him as he was dropped into the depths of oblivion.

* * *

The lot of them stood around the room, chatting amongst themselves as they all anticipated the start of class. Time moved on as the minutes ticked on, the 'tocks' of the clock growing louder as it was almost on the hour. And, as the minute hand reached its goal, signalling the beginning of class, all took their seats in preparation. However, the conversations continued without skipping a beat. They waited patiently, occasionally exchanging a few confused glanced between them as a few more minutes passed and still no teacher.

Though, it wasn't unusual for him to arrive at the last possible second, for him to take this long...it was jarring, to say the least.

"Think he just slept in?" Uraraka asked, her brows knit in subtle concern. Her hands were clasped atop her desk, thumbs twiddling nervously. "That's likely, isn't it?" she questioned, hoping someone would back her up on this.

Grinning to himself and leaning back in his chair, Kaminari propped his feet on top of his own desk and settled in. "Who knows, I wouldn't really be surprised, the guy already walks around like the undead," he commented, ignoring the lecturings of Iida about his choice of a sitting position. "I say, if he's not here in the next five minutes, then it's a sign we can all go home and take the day off."

There were a few agreements in the background, but mixed within the chorus were the few arguments and protests. "He could just be sick," Asui suggested, a finger to her chin and her eyes gazing at the ceiling in thought. "Everyone gets under the weather from time to time."

"No, if that were the case, you'd think he'd say something," Ashido replied, crossing her arms and sinking a little in her seat. She didn't have any ideas of her own, but she was fairly certain that wasn't the case. Then again, with the track record he had, she wouldn't put it past the man to do something like this and leave them in the dark. Her face fell with the memories of the few times he's already pulled that kind of stuff on them.

Sitting quietly to himself, Midoriya tightened his lips in a straight line, starring off towards the front of the room. This wasn't normal, not in the slightest. Now that he thought about it, he hadn't seen him at all, not even in passing. His worry getting the best of him, he called out to the others with a small "Hey." Almost immediately, the others fell silent in curiosity. "Have...have any of you seen him at all today?" he asked, looking to each and every one of them. And, with each dip of the head and aversion of a gaze, his heart dropped closer and closer towards the pit of his stomach. Not a single one of them had seen him, and none of them had heard anything. Looking to the clock, it was now five minutes passed the time he should have been there. He normally wouldn't be so uneasy by this, but for the amount of time he's been there, he'd never seen him come in late.

Slowly, the others began to understand the severity of the situation, and how utterly out of character this was for him. The idea of him sleeping in was starting to make less sense as well. If that were the case, he would simply sleep during class. He wasn't sure if he was just overreacting because of all the increased villain activity as of late, or if something was actually up, but either way, it was unnerving.

"I think we should tell someone," he muttered, mostly to himself, but a few around him hear it loud and clear.

"Tell them what, you idiot?!" Bakugo asked, swiveling around in his chair with unexpected speed. "What, you wanna tell someone that your teacher is a little late. Oh no, it must be the end of the world," he muttered, rolling his eyes and turning back away before he could lose his temper. Instead, he tapped a single finger against his desk and grumbled to himself in annoyance. What the hell was with him, always butting his nose into things that he had no business butting into. It honestly made him sick just thinking about it.

As Midoriya was about to question things further, finally, the door slid open and he let out a sigh of relief, but that momentary comfort was shattered the moment he looked upon the person that entered. "Midnight?" he questioned in confusion. "W-Where's Aizawa-Sensei?" he asked, brows knit in suspicion.

For a moment, the woman said nothing, but a flash of uncertainty was seen on her features for a split second, long enough for some of the others to notice. "About that, due to Eraser's absence, this class as been canceled for the day," she announced, tone flat and somewhat forced. Taking a deep breath, she glanced between the lot of them. "Do not worry, he just hasn't shown up, we have no reason to become alarmed as to why that is," she explained, offering them a warm and reassuring smile, but the gesture never reached her gaze.

No one replied, no one was sure what to say or how to react. "What do you mean, 'just hasn't shown up'?" Iida asked, on his feet a moment later. "As in he hasn't been seen all day, or as in he just hasn't shown up here?" He already knew the answer, they all did, it was clear as day, but there was a part of him that didn't want to believe that.

Her lack of an answer was clear enough. "I hope you all understand, and we apologize for the inconvenience. But, we ask that you all return home for the day. Though, we expect to see you all back here on Monday, understood?" she asked, keeping up a professional appearance and never allowing the authority to slip from his grasp. This wasn't the time to allow her stable demeanor to falter, not in front of so many students. Besides, Mic was already on his way over to Aizawa's place. And, until there was news from that, there was no reason to become uneasy.

"And please," she added before exiting, "it's very important that you all let us figure this out. This is a matter that is best left to us," she advised, an unusually serious tone to her words. She was completely serious about this, and hearing this did nothing to appease their concerns. Tha air stagnated as she left them to themselves, the weight of it nearly crushing and suffocating. What the hell was going on? None of them could muster up the will to speak after hearing that, frozen in place as the news settled in and replayed in their heads. Now there was no doubt about it, something was definitely wrong.

* * *

He didn't want to admit it, but the closer he drew to his long-time friend's place, the more Mic's pulse picked up. He's never had to do this before, never had to drop in to check if the guy was alright; it was odd, and he hated every bit of it. Normally they were just casual visits, and always when he invited himself. This was nothing like those, and something about it read as an invasion of privacy to him. Sure, he may have been intrusive and occasionally inappropriate, but never did he stick his nose where it wasn't welcomed.

As he drew closer, the more he had to manually move his feet, it was as if they knew this was wrong on every level and were trying to spare him of whatever it was he would find. But, he couldn't stop, and his mouth became unnaturally dry when he was just a few minutes away, and his chest tightened as his gaze picked up on something in the distance. It was just sitting there in the middle of the sidewalk. There was this nagging sureness that he knew exactly what it was too. However, he'd keep telling himself it wasn't until he could really see for himself.

Every step from there was like a drum beat against his ribs, and this nervousness that enveloped him was something he hadn't known for a long time. He held his breath in anticipation as he finally reached it. There was no need for him to look more than he already was, for he knew with every fiber of his being that this was Eraser's capturing weapon, lying in a pile on the pavement. Stepping even closer, despite his better judgement, he crouched down to gather the material, his movements locking up as he bundled it up.

"Wha-" he muttered, emerald gaze widening and the rusty-colored stain that lied underneath. His breath caught as he recognized the unmistakable sight of blood, soaked and dried on the ground. Slowly, his attention lifted from the specs to Eraser's apartment, and he swallowed the lump in his throat as the taste of bile touched the back of his tongue.

He had to be completely certain. He already had all the answers he came here for, but he had to be one hundred percent sure that this was real. Scooping up the rest of the fabric, he wrapped his left arm firmly around it and blankly, autonomously, strolled towards the man's home. There was no way his blood could have ran colder than it already was. He was numb, more fearful that he'd been in years. He was always fine when faced with an enemy, but the fear that someone he cared for was in potential danger, it was something he couldn't accept so easily.

Now, there he was, standing directly in front of his friend's door, staring at it with his hand raised as he prepared to knock. He fought with the tremble that wracked the limb until he dug up enough courage to finally tap on the wood. The sound echoed in his skull as it went unanswered.

"E-Eraser, come on, man!" he called, knocking harder. "Quit screwing around, I know you're lazy and all, but this is ridiculous," he joked, all humor drained from the ramblings. There was only one thing to do now, check it out for himself, but he was so utterly terrified of what he might find once in. This was for Aizawa though, and keeping that in mind, he fished the spare key from his pocket, the one he was 'trusted' with a while ago.

In his head, it all happened in slow motion: the turning of the key, the creak of the door as it swung open, and then the dark interior as light spilled in from his entering. "Hey!" he called out, his voice bouncing off the wall and coming back to him. It was really empty, he wasn't in there. Eraser, his friend, was gone, and not a single one of them knew where he could have gone. There was no time to think about things now, he had to fill the others in, they had to search for him and get to the bottom of this before it could escalate too far. With shaking fingers, and a trembling arm, he dialed the first number that came to mind.

As soon as it was answered, he fought to get words to come out. "H-Hey," he stammered. "It's about Aizawa...he's not here. I found his weapon outside his apartment, and...and there was blood."

* * *

There was a near unbearable throbbing in his head, pounding in time with his heartbeat which pulsed at an uncomfortable rate. He was nauseous, and with the pain that was in his skull, he wouldn't be surprised if he had a concussion. Aizawa tightened his eyes shut and groaned to himself as he slowly came to. And, along with it surfaced the memories of what happened. With the occurances flooding back in, his eyes snapped open, but still, he was surrounded by darkness. That was right, they blindfolded him, wanting to avoid his quirk at all costs.

Whoever these guys were, they knew enough about how he fought. He never got the chance to get his bearings, as soon as his waking up was noticed, fingers intertwined painfully in his hair and his head was yanked up, forcing him to face forward. A heated breath brushed against the side of his neck and a chuckled ticked by his ear. "You sure took your time waking up." It took everything he had to suppress a shudder from traveling through him.

"I...suppose you have a reason...for taking me?" Eraser asked, voice hoarse and throat sore. He gave his hands a tug, only to find them bound behind his back. And, it was at that moment he became aware that he was sitting in a chair. "Why cover...my eyes when...I'm tied up?" he asked, a slight undertone of mocking in there.

A single finger caressed his right cheek, a searing pain trailing after the appendage. Much to his disappointment, he couldn't hold back the hiss that followed suit, but he was sure his skin was burning. It didn't stop until the touch pulled away, leaving him shuddering from agony and his breath coming in pants. "It's hard to get answers from you if I can't use my quirk," he answered as if it were that simple.

"Acid?" Aizawa wheezed out as he tried to convince himself to calm down. Them seeing him so worked up wasn't going to do him any favors.

"You catch on quick," the man replied, running his thumb back over the burn wound, finding amusement in the way the hero flinched at the connection. "Yes, that is my quirk, if you must know. I can secrete an acid from my hands. It's not a very useful ability, but it has its...uses.

"It's quite potent too," Miss Houdini added on, sounding proud to be on his side. "I've never felt it for myself, but I've seen it at work. And, let's just say, no one has been a fan of it." He couldn't see, but he could hear her walking around in circles now, strolling steadily around him. After last night, after finding out what she could do, just having her near was enough to put him on edge.

"Don't worry, she's not going to do anything without me telling her so. If we wanted you dead, we would have done so already. But, you're of no use to us unless you're able to talk. As for other functions. They're not important. We just need that pretty voice of yours unharmed.

So, that's what this was about, it was information they were after. But, he knew, the moment they had that, they would no longer have a need for him. All he had to do was hold out long enough for others to realize he was missing. He could do that much. He didn't have a choice in the matter. Instantly making up his mind, he mentally prepared himself for the worst of it.

Surprisingly, Eraser smiled despite the situation he was in. He was well aware of the danger he was in, and yet... He wasn't sure if it was from his nerves, the pain clouding his mind, or his definite head injury, but it was there and the grasp on his hair was jerked again. "Keep smiling while you can," the other man replied, his own voice betraying his enjoyment.

"Now, how about we get started with those questions, shall we? Tell me, what do you know about All Might?"

* * *

 **Anyway, please let me know what you think, I will definitely be continuing this. But, it still doesn't hurt to get feedback. XD All is welcomed and appreciated.**


	2. One More Chance

**Beta read by: SinikkavonWolperting and DragonRiderSayomi**

 **And, here we are, chapter 2. I still have not been this excited about working on a fic in a while. I don't know why, I guess I just really needed to try some different stuff.**

 **Hope people are enjoying this so far, I do have a lot of plans for this, and I really hope it manages to break hearts later. XD And, please, feel free to leave any kind of feedback, all is appreciated and welcomed. Can't grow as a writer without it. ^-^**

 **I was gonna wait before posting this one, but I'm too impatient. Chapter three has already been started, so it shouldn't be long before that one will be finished.**

* * *

"Now, how about we get started with those questions, shall we? Tell me, what do you know about All Might?" he asked, breathily as a couple of his fingers ran along Eraser's jawline until they reached his chin. He tilted the man's face upward, forcing him to face straight towards him. "I want to know everything about him," he purred, the grasp on his hair finally being released, leaving the other hand to be the only thing holding his head up.

Aizawa took a deep breath, so that's what this was all about, if that were the case, then even more reason to hold out. "You really think I'd know...much about him?" he shot back, keeping his tone surprisingly calm. "It's not as if...I'm close to him," he added, trying his best to keep his breathing under control. He didn't see it coming, and the unexpectancy of the strike caught him off guard as the side of his face stung fiercely and his head turned to the side.

"Cut the bullshit!" his captor seethed, a few specs of saliva hitting his face as he spoke. The front of Eraser's shirt was grabbed and he was yanked forward. The harsh motion pulled uncomfortable on his arms and shoulders, eliciting a sharp gasp out of the man. "I know you know somethin' you're around him most days here lately, are you not?" he questioned, shoving the dark-haired man back against his chair. "So, I'll ask again. What do you know?"

"Nothing," Eraser replied, not missing a single beat. This time he was ready for the slap to come; however, this time it assaulted the other side of his face, connecting with the burn and causing the pain to flare once more. He had no choice but to hold his breath to keep himself from making a sound.

"You know, I may not pack that much of a punch, but Golem over here, he has a much harder time holding back. So, unless you want yer face broken, I suggest you start talkin'," he muttered, gripping the hero's face and jerking it back forward

Heavy footsteps drew closer, the way they practically 'banged' against the floor was enough to cause for worry. And, the dark-haired man swallowed thickly, remembering just how large this 'Golem' fellow was. Strong enough to crack pavement, that was for sure. "It won't change a thing," he muttered softly. "Beat me all...you want. It won't...make me know things I don't...already know," he bit out stubbornly. And then, came another strike, this one much stronger than the first two; he hadn't even heard it coming as it collided with his temple. Ringing filled his ears as stars swarmed the darkness.

"Sorry about th...gets a little carried aw...sometimes," he heard the guy talking, but it was going in and out of focus; if he didn't have a concussion before, he was positive he had one now after that.

He could barely make out anything, all that he knew was that his face had been grabbed once again, that heated breath brushing against his skin from just a few inches away. His first instinct was to try and pull away, the closeness causing his mind to buzz and his spine to chill over. But, the hold only tightened until fingers were digging into his flesh, the nails nearly breaking through.

"Calm down, would you?" he asked, finally loosening his hold with a soft chuckle. "No need to get this worked up." His steps slowly drifted away, but after a few seconds, he picked up on something dragging across the floor, something metallic and it stopped a couple feet in front of him. "How about we try this like civilized folk," he suggested, taking a seat across from Eraserhead. "Can't be beating you senseless right off the bat, can we? That wouldn't be very effective."

Aizawa didn't reply right away, too busy with trying to even his breathing out, he took a second or two to compose himself first. He couldn't be losing it like that, the key to surviving these things was remaining level-headed...no matter what. "Y-You don't listen very well...do you?" he questioned rhetorically, leaning his head back.

"Could say the same about you," the other sighed, casually. "It's a simple question, really. We're not asking for much y'know, we just want to get to know the number one hero a little bit better. What makes him tick? How he likes to spend his weekends? What gets under his skin? The normal things. He's human, just like the rest of us, we all have our faults. So, what are his? I'm dying to know," he spoke leisurely, far too familiarly for Aizawa's liking.

Time ticked on, and he still said nothing, refusing to give these creeps what they wanted, and he would continue to do so as long as he were able to. "Why do you want to know?" he shot back after a little longer, his voice surprisingly steady for a guy at his captor's disposal.

A heavy sigh sounded out at his question, a noise signaling his displeasure at the question. "I'm sorry, but you're not the one that gets to ask things," he spoke lowly, his voice intimidating and threatening with just one statement. He couldn't help but get the feeling this man was more than a little unstable, his demeanor jumped all over the place in such a short while. "I'm not a very patient man, and I've been generous thus far, but that kindness is quickly running out, and your lack of cooperation as only making it worse!." The tapping of his foot grew louder, quicker as his voice increased in volume.

Eraser hated it, but he knew he flinched as the man stood him, his chair being shoved back as he did so. His fingers twitched and his binds bit into his wrists. Every muscle in his body was tense. He waited for whatever was going to happen next; anticipated whatever they had planned. And, that was the worse part: knowing it was coming, expecting it to, but unable to see and prepare for it properly. "I don't know what your...endgame is...here," he muttered, allowing his head to drop a little, "but if you lot honestly believe...that knowing more on the man…will give you some sort of an edge...then you have no idea..."

"Houdini," the man said, only the uttering of her name, but that was all it took to stiffen Aizawa's form. The others, he could put up with, but the unsettling nature of her quirk, it left a bad taste in his mouth.

His form froze over, the much softer steps rounding until she stood before him. "For a while there, I thought you were going to be selfish and keep 'em all to yourself, Caustic Grip," she chimed, striding closer. Eraser had no chance to react before that same sensation as the night before spread across his chest. It wasn't painful, but the tingles the touch produced caused his stomach to knot up. "Eraser, you know how fragile the bones really are? People tend to underestimate just how easy they are to…" and with a quick and unexpected flick, a sickening 'snap' resounded from his torso.

There was no stifling his cry of pain this time around, agony spiked and his body leaned forward, as much as his arms would allow, on its own accord just as she pulled her hand away, laughing to herself at the suffering she caused. Meanwhile, Aizawa struggled to take in a breath, even short and shallow ones proved to be absolute torture. The slight tremble that settled through him wasn't doing him any favors either. Soft whimpers accentuated each exhale, but for the moment, he honestly didn't care.

"There's more where that came from if you don't start answerin'," Caustic muttered. "By behaving so high and mighty, you're only hurting yourself. The longer this is dragged out, the thinner my patience will wear," he rambled on. "Right now, it's nothing but a broken rib or two, not even fatal, just uncomfortable, I can imagine."

"I-I," Eraser stutter, even those stammers rattling his torso painfully, "I...already told...you." Despite his discomfort, he raised his head to face forward, his teeth bared, "I have...nothing...to tell." A snap of his fingers, and then another snap from inside his chest and he was crying out again.

"Make that two or three...maybe four," he corrected. "I do wonder, how much can you handle before you give in? An hour? A day? A week, perhaps? It's up to you how long this lasts." he drawled out.

Eraser didn't reply, more like he couldn't; he was afraid that the moment he opened his mouth, nothing but sounds of his discomfort would come out. Instead, he locked up, clamping his mouth shut as he tried to ride out the pain, despite the fact that it wasn't ebbing away. "And that was only your right side," the woman piped up. "There's still a whole 'nother side to tamper with." Her voice was on the edge of songlike as she made light of the circumstances. It was almost as if she had no sense of right and wrong, although none of the others seemed to either. It was like a game to them.

"Hey, Houdini, don't get carried away," the leader warned, threat in his tone. "I'll let you have your fun, but if you go too far, then we won't have need for him anymore. You got it?"

"Yeah, yeah, I got it the first time," she sighed in annoyance. "I already know, just a few bones, don't touch the vital organs unless instructed to," she huffed, like a child not getting her way. Aizawa grit his teeth; it was the 'unless instructed to' part that caused him to become nervous. If she were able to grab his lungs like she had, then his heart wasn't out of the question, and if she really wanted to, ending him would be as easy as her losing her temper.

Finally, after a few seconds, the hero gathered his wits just enough to unfurl the smallest amount. Still, straightening up completely was out of the question for the moment. With labored breaths, he lifted his head just far enough to face towards them. "Tell me," he muttered, voice barely above a whisper. "Out of every….everyone, why….would you choose me?" He didn't really care for the reasoning, but the more he could keep them talking…

"Why do you think?" Caustic replied, his words dripping with self-importance and confidence. "Those eyes of yours are about the only troublesome thing. Face it, you were just the easiest one to subdue out of the bunch. If you can't see us, then there isn't much danger to be had," he explained lightly.

He'd be lying if he said that didn't sting a little, but he had to keep the conversation going, regardless of how much pain speaking caused. "So...you guys, you...you did your homework. I must...give prop-"

"That's enough of that," the other man cut off, tone heavy. "Just how stupid do you believe me to be, Eraser? I'm truly offended that you're trying to play me for some kind of fool. It's about time to stop playing games and get focused. I don't care how much or little it is, I want to know everything you can tell me...or else…" Aizawa didn't need to ask what the rest of that threat was, it was clear even to him as a pressure found its way into his left shoulder; the strain of it uncomfortable tight over the joint. "You have the count of three before she follows through," he explained. "Three." He let out a shuddering breath, his heart picking up speed in anticipation. "Two." He tightened his jaw; he refused to make a sound this time. His head was beginning to spin, nausea swirled within. "One."

The 'pop' that followed and the fire that erupted in his shoulder were blinding, white flashes burst in front of him. He was forced to hold his breath, but it wasn't enough, small and rapid breaths seeped through his lips, each one carrying a pained whimper with them. He was so close to crying out, on the verge, but he shoved the urges down, biting into his lower lip until the copper flavor covered his tongue. He may not have been able to do much in this situation, but if he could just hold out, then that would be enough.

* * *

He found himself unable to move for a few minutes after hanging up the phone, the device tightly clutched in his hand as it shook near uncontrollably. He couldn't stop himself from scanning the room over and over again, as if a second glance would reveal something previously missed. But, of course, it was the same; it was the same as all those other times he's seen it...just empty this time. Mic didn't know how to react, he didn't even know how to feel. How could someone feel both anger and nothing at the same time?

The only thing able to break him out of his trance was the knowledge that he was no use standing around here. The longer he lingered here, thinking and wondering to himself, the longer his friend was out there, in God knows what trouble. The blond took a deep breath and his fingers wrapped tighter around the material held close as he forced himself to turn his back to the apartment. He knew, with everything he had, that he had to go, but for some reason, walking away felt so wrong.

It was alright there, because next time he came back here, he'd make sure it wasn't empty; that was a promise he'd keep until it was fulfilled. As he walked, his steps quickened, his exhales coming out faster as he went. But, as he passed by that spot, his body became rigid, his eyes instantly darted to the rusty specs on the pavement, then to the cracks and damage only a few feet from that. His gaze narrowed; he couldn't believe he somehow missed that the first time. That had to have taken quite a bit of force; but considering the world they were in, it wasn't that surprising of a discovery.

He knew there wasn't much more to be seen here, and he knew there was no more information that could be gathered from this, btu still. The man crouched down, staring at the marks for a few seconds before shoving the lump in his throat down and reaching out his free hand to run over it. Not only was it cracked, but to him, it appeared as though it was done by a hand, like it was punched. Soaking that in, images flashed behind wavering eyes, clips of his friend actually being punched by something that can do this much damage with a single hit. He closed his eyes and shakily got back up to his feet. Once up, he glared back down, his chest tightening.

Shaking his head, Mic tore his attention away, ignoring the knot in his guts at the sight of it. Though, it was an image that he knew wouldn't disperse so easily, and until they found him, it was probably going to be the only thing he'd be able to think about. He bowed his head and kept it that way, kept his gaze locked on his feet until he arrived back at the school. And, even then, he carried an air around him that deviated passersby from his vicinity. However, there were a few that caught sight of what he was carrying, recognizing it instantly, but most refrained from asking questions.

But, there was one, one student that didn't hesitate to voice his concerns. "Present Mic…" the timid and reserved voice called out to him. The plain concern in it was enough to stop him in his tracks despite his rush.

"What is it?" he asked, a bit more snappily than he had intended, but he was barely keeping himself together as it were; he didn't have time for this. He glanced over his shoulder to see Midoriya standing there, his widened eyes locked on the material hugged against him. Something about that expression, it stung, it made this even worse for him. "Shouldn't you be on your way home?" he asked instead, subtly shifting to hide it from view.

The kid dropped his gaze for just a second before lifting it back up. "That's Aizawa-Sensei's, isn't it?" he asked, getting right to the point. For a fraction of a second, he saw something flash behind those shades, but it was gone just as quickly. "W-What's going on?" he questioned, his fear on full display.

The man hesitated, his throat drying up and forcing him to clear it before he could speak steadily. "This is business for us to worry about," he replied, his words thick with seriousness. "You students are not to get involved. Now, you best get home," he repeated, turning on the boy before he could press further.

Midoriya just stood there, taken aback by the unusual strictness of the hero...it was unsettling and for once, he left it at that. But, his eyes kept darting to the capturing weapon in the man's arms, the way he held onto and the way he tried to move it from his line of sight; it bothered him deeply. If he wasn't convinced something was terribly wrong before, then this did it for him. His hands clenched at his sides as the man walked farther and farther away, the speed and purpose in his steps carrying him at a panicked pace.

Did they not notice, or just not care? But, leaving them all out of the loop, withholding this information from them in an attempt to 'protect' them, it was doing more harm than good. This was their teacher, they cared about him, didn't they have a right to know what the hell was going on? He didn't know how long he was standing there, he was positively glued to the spot while his hands now shook, his attention dropping to the ground with furrowed brows.

"D-Deku?" The sound of Uraraka's voice behind him elicited a jolt and a sharp gasp of startlement out of him. "Is everything alright?" she asked, a forced smile on her face, and he knew just by looking that it wasn't genuine. "You were just standing there," she explained.

Raising his hands to wave them in a dismissive manner, he let out a soft chuckle. "Uh, oh, that, don't worry about it. I was just thinking...is all," he muttered. He was always such a terrible liar, and he knew full well she wasn't buying it. He took a deep breath, if he didn't tell her, then he'd be doing the same thing the others were doing, and he couldn't do that to her. "Actually," he sighed, "I just passed by...Mic, and…" he hesitated, why was this so difficult? Nothing was certain yet. "He had Sensei's weapon with him," and with that simple revelation, his attention was dropped back to the ground.

Without looking, he could sense the falter in her own posture. "Oh," she muttered, her tone reflecting perfectly the misgiving in his heart. "But," she chirped back up, shoving some of that hopeful spirit of hers into her words, "We don't know anything yet. You've seen Aizawa-Sensei in action before!" she reminded, determined to keep the mood from sinking any further. "He's unbelievable, he was able to take on so many of those villains at once!"

"Yeah, I know," he agreed, trying as he might to convince himself that she was right, that he was alright, and he tried to think of every other possibility that didn't involve their teacher being in danger. But, it was fruitless. Until he knew for a fact, it was in his nature to assume the worst. "I think I'm gonna head home," he said after a moment, but that strong-willed spark never faded from his eyes.

"Alright," she replied, watching him as he sauntered away, a swirling sense of concern and knowing plaguing her. 'What are you planning to do?' she thought to herself; it wasn't like him to easily give up like that, something was up.

* * *

"Dammit!" the blond swore, dropping the fabric in the center of the table and slamming his other hand down. The force of it caused a shudder to run through it as a cup of coffee toppled over. "I can't believe this is happening!"

"Mic, control yourself," Midnight breath out, grabbing the mug before more of the liquid could spill out. "I know you're worried, we all are. But this isn't the time to be letting your feelings take hold of you."

His hand remained where it was, his fingers curling to form a fist and his arm shook with the tightness of it. The man's teeth grit and his other hand gripped the roots of his hair in frustration. "I let him go last night, I let him go back to his place by himself; I should have known something was wrong. But I…" he trailed off, his hand steadily easing up as his other fell back to his side. "I let him go, and now…"

"That's enough," Thirteen spoke up, somehow remaining calm. "You can't spend this precious time we have blaming yourself. Not a single one of us could have anticipated something like this happening. It was out of your control." He knew that already, he knew that there was no way for him to know, but there still had to have been away this could have been avoided. His eyes kept flicking to the table, and he would have continued to do so if it weren't for the other removing it from the table. "I'll be sure to keep it somewhere safe," he assured, giving Mic a small nod.

Exhaling heavily, Hizashi dropped himself into his own seat and propped his elbows on the table before placing his forehead against his clasped hands. He shouldn't have been this worked up, it was so unlike him. He jolted slightly as something brushed over his back and moved to rest on his shoulder. He cut his attention over, turning back once he made out Midnight standing there. "We're going to find him," she assured, giving his shoulder a firm squeeze. "So, for now, trying having a little faith in the man, I don't think he'd be very appreciative of you getting down in the dumps so easily."

He didn't reply, just leaned more heavily against his arms. "I've never felt so useless in my life," he muttered to himself, but there was still a light sigh behind him as the touch slipped away. Straightening back up, he removed his sunglasses in order to run a hand down his face, then to rub his eyes. "I'm fine now," he said, releasing a shuddering breath. "So, anyone have any ideas how to go about this?" he asked, needing them to start talking, craving a distraction, anything to keep his mind from venturing back to its dark imaginations.

"With no information, there isn't much we can do," Snipe replied, giving the reply none of them wanted to hear. "If what you told us is true, then there's nothing to go off of. All we can gather from that is any number of things could have happen-"

"Any number of things?!" Mic snapped back, on his feet again with both hands flat on the wooden surface. "How many things involve _blood_ on the pavement?! Tell me what the hell else could have happened because I can't think of a damn thing!" he demanded, his voice rising of its on volition, causing the others to flinch from the volume of it. The blond was left staring the other man down, who hadn't even reacted to his outburst, his teeth bared with his growing anger.

Snipe eventually looked in his direction, his arms crossed. "It's good that you're angry, but you should direct it at the real enemies, not one of your own for speaking the truth," he spoke with restraint, an edge of superiority that rubbed the other the wrong way. "You need to take a few steps back and stop taking this so personally. You can't see this as one of your comrades missing, you have to treat it as if it was anyone else."

"You don't think I know that?! Because trust me, I'm well aware! But, asking me to act as though it's just some random person off the street, that's…" he let out a frustrated growl and swiveled his attention elsewhere.

"He's right," Nezu chimed in for the first time, thinking to himself the whole time until he felt as though things were going too far. "As much as I know you want to help in the matter, which would be a nice asset to have, but if you can't handle this in professional manner, then I'll have to ask that you step out of this," he warned. But, he was giving him a chance in this. "I really don't want to have to do this, but I also know how dangerous it can be to let your emotions get in the way of something as close as this."

He wanted to argue against that, to say something back, yet he was at a loss for words. Breath caught in his chest, he slowly lowered himself back down. "I understand," he muttered voice back to a normal volume, much to the relief of the others' eardrums. Instead, he clasped his hands together and bore down against the table. The others carried on with the conversation, discussing possible actions, searches and investigations they would carry out, but he didn't hear a word of it, all of it went in one ear and out the other. As much as he tried to pay attention, he just couldn't, his brain wouldn't allow him to. His thoughts dragged all else down with it, pulling it all down to simmer in his bitterness. He was going to get the sons of bitches that dared to lay a finger on someone he considered to be a friend.

* * *

Eraser shuddered, throbs and pangs pulsed from his shoulder and down his arm as his exhales came out in quick succession. Without the support, his arm pulled against the socket, never allowing the pain to subside no matter how much time passed. "So, still not in a talking mood huh?" Caustic questioned. "My, I hate to admit it, but I thought for sure you would have cracked by now. And, for that, you have my utmost respect."

"How...honoring," the hero bit out sarcastically between sharp breaths. He was sure he was going to pass out, with every beat of his heart, white flashed in the back of his eyes. 'Shit, not now,' he thought to himself, fighting against the temptation. He couldn't afford giving in right now. Then again, if he were unconscious, they couldn't question him. Aizawa grit his teeth and shook his head. No, he couldn't think like that, that's not the kind of person he was.

"But, since this is taking too long, I think we're going to have to move on to plan B," he announced dejectedly. He didn't want to have to resort to this, but the first plan clearly wasn't working. "If you won't tell us what we want to know, then the next best thing is...to bring All Might to us," he explained with a tone of pleasure that left the man feeling sick to his stomach.

He didn't want to know what that entailed, but he was afraid he was going to find out whether he wanted it or not. Quietly, the villain strolled closer to him and began circling around him, his steps steadily slowing down with each cycle. "But, before that, I want to try another thing first. You know, a person's will shatters the moment they have nothing else to lose," he rambled, finally coming to a stop when he stood in front of him. "You take away what gives a man his individuality, then what is he left with?" he asked rhetorically, taking another step closer. "Tell me, Eraser, what is it that makes you...you? I already know what it is, but I want to hear you say it."

Aizawa knew as well, and his heart thrummed painfully, the flames in his dislocated shoulder forgotten as real fear began to rise into his throat. His breathing picked up, and there was no doubt the others noticed this, he couldn't control his own anxiety anymore.

"You seem nervous," he teased, taking another step. "Don't worry, there's still a chance to prevent this from happening you know," he offered, pausing and giving the hero the opportunity to change his ways. "Hmm? Not going to say a word? Such a shame, but I suppose it can't be helped," he mumbled, feigning disappointment. "Just know, this is your own fault."

He took the last two steps over, one hand gently gliding into his hair before doing like he did before and gripping it tightly. He jerked Eraser's head back, letting out a breath of pleasure at the gasp that was pulled out. A bead of sweat trailed down the hero's neck, over the lump in his throat.

"I'll try my best not to make too much of a mess," the villain promised, his other hand hovering, brushing up his face until it was just over his right eye, still over the cloth that covered them. "But, once released, acid doesn't exactly obey orders," he whispered, finally pressing the palm of his hand down.

"No," Aizawa uttered, the word slipping out before he could stop it. "No, no, no," he repeated, trying as he might to jerk his head away, and for a bit, he managed to slip out of his grasp a couple times, until,

"Golem," the man called over, and instantly two strong and rough hands gripped either side of his head, effectively holding it still. This time, there was no moving, he couldn't budge even an inch. "Sorry, but if you're squirming like that, then there's no telling what might happen to the rest of that face of yours. My, you probably wouldn't be recognizable."

Aizawa sucked in air between his teeth, on the verge of hyperventilating. He never would have thought these guys were this serious about this. But, he was now in a predicament that he saw no way out of, and that became painfully more obvious as the first drops trickled onto the cloth, taking only a second to eat through the material. He knew it wouldn't help, but his instincts kicked in and he squeezed his eyes shut. The moment he did, his jaw fell open and an agonized scream ripped out. The drops kept coming, soaking through at a fast rate. And, if they were able to bore through the cloth so easily, then it was only a matter of time… Another cry, there was no more holding them back; it burned, it stung and it incinerated through what he thought to be the worst possible pain.

"There it is," Caustic muttered, his voice lost in the songs of suffering. "You have one more chance to tell me what I want to know."


	3. Plan B

**Beta read by: SinikkavonWolperting and DragonRiderSayomi**

 **And, things are starting to pick up now. :D And you better believe there are about to be some pissed off heroes by the time this is over with. ;D Anyway, so glad people are liking this, and really hope you like where it goes. Like I said, I have plans tat go beyond the rescue for this, such as the recovery and dealing with the aftermath, which will be just as painful imo. XD Anyway, hope you enjoy this new chapter. ^-^**

* * *

 **Aqua and Luna : Thank you so much, and so glad you like it so far. Hope it can be satisfactory from here on out as well~ And thank you so much for the review, it means a lot. :D**

 **starxnova08 : XD It will get a little heavier...but, in a different way if that makes sense. lol Thank you so much, and he's about to have quite the rough road ahead. ;w; Anyway, thank you so much for the review, as always, much appreciated. ^-^**

* * *

Stars encompassed his vision, flaming throbs and stings pulsed from his right eye, and he fought with everything he had not to vomit from the pain of it. His breaths entered his lungs in panted heaves, and his entire body wracked and trembled. Why did it hurt so damn bad? Aizawa couldn't concentrate, he couldn't focus on what was going on around him; if they were about to do something else, he was unaware to it. He sucked in a couple more sharp breaths between clenched teeth as the worst of it calmed down; however, the agony was promising to linger for quite some time.

"That was an unexpected reaction," Caustic clapped with a soft chuckle. "Much more lively than you've been so far, and I must say, I think I like this side of you much better." Eraser didn't reply, he couldn't find it in himself to; too caught up with controlling his breaths and calming his racing heart, he merely sat there, barely listening. "Since you seem to be in a more vocal mood, maybe that means you're finally willing to talk a little."

The hero still remained silent, not trusting himself to speak just yet, not trusting himself to so much as open part his lips more than a sliver. Whimpers slithered out with every other exhale, and each inhale was like breathing in the flames of hell. Already, his throat was raw from his unfiltered cries. However, he let a slight whine slip when surprisingly gentle fingers slid under his chin and tentatively lifted his face up. "Remember what I said," he spoke lowly, his thumb brushing closer and closer to his left eye, "you still have another chance." With that, he released his hold, letting his head drop back against his chest.

"I…" he muttered, despising the quiver that surrounded his voice, "I...know...nothing." Against his better judgement, he snatched his head away, still fighting to show whatever defiance he was able to.

"Want me to persuade him?" Houdini asked, intention dripping sadistically off her tongue. "I promise to leave his organs alone," she sang, her impatience near tangible. "Come on, just a few more, it shouldn't be too far, would it?" she asked, her questions picking up pace from her excitement as they rolled out uncontrollably.

He was quick to give his response, knowing full well how carried away the girl could get if left to her own devices. "Not yet," he sighed, "but don't worry, you'll get your turn again. For now, I think he needs a moment to reflect on things." Aizawa heard the shift of the man's clothes as he crouched before him. "I imagine he's in a lot of pain right now, unable to think straight; his mind is a mess and his judgement clouded. All he needs is a moment to gather all the pieces of his shattered logic."

Eraser took a few more deep breaths, or as deep as his broken ribs would allow,, bunching up what he could of his dignity. His teeth were grit as he listened to the ramblings of the others...biding his time. He needed to think, needed to collect himself and really consider things, but everything in his body was making that too difficult, nothing was allowing him a moment to think of anything other than the throbs, aches and stings that enveloped him. Every breath he took jarred his ribs and ever shudder agitated his shoulder and wrist. It was impossible to think.

He went to take another breath, but it hitched, inside his chest, causing him to cough instead; the force of it throwing him into another world of anguish, colors danced before him. They teased him relentlessly until they eventually faded back out of existence. Now, inhales shaky and exhales forced, Aizawa accidently let out a swift and pained swear under his breath.

Caustic hummed to himself at the sound, an interested yet impatient sound. "It sounds as though you're struggling over there, Eraser," he teased, waiting for a moment to get no response back. "Do you need a few more minutes to get your head screwed back on straight?" he asked, leaning closer.

"My head...is perfectly...clear," he bit out, tightly, against his better judgement. "And...my answer...stands." The man let out a choked hiss as his face contorted in pain and a tremor surged through his weakened body. Snuffing out his burning torment, he lifted his head just enough to be facing the other. "Whatever it is...you want to know...g-go find it out...for yourself." Despite his strength and energy dangerously waning, he kept his attention raised, refusing to let these guys know just how much they were getting to him.

"Is that so...well, that's quite disappointing," Caustic sighed followed by a click of his tongue. "A shame, I would have thought you'd be smarter than that." Slowly, he brushed his hand back over the dark-haired man's features, letting his palm linger over his left eye for just a second before he flinched away, earning a genuine laugh from the villain. "Jumpy as ever," he muttered, retracting his touch with another amused chuckle. "Alright, have at him," he instructed as his steps carried him back to his own chair.

It wasn't even a second later before bouncy taps approached him and more delicate hands cupped either side of his face. His right side flared up with the intrusive touch, earning them another hiss. "What shall I tinker with next?" she wondered aloud, swiftly pulling her hands away with an enthusiastic "Aha!" She didn't give him the opportunity to process as a chill sparked in his right forearm. The icy tingles tediously journeyed down the length of it until they reached his wrist. The frigid tendrils wrapped tighter around it and she began to hum to herself, a tune that he didn't recognize until it was too late. "Pop!" she chimed, followed immediately by the man's cry of pain, "...goes the weasel." She laughed to herself at the sounds that were produced, both from the dislocation as well as his cries.

As much as it hurt, as much agony as it brought upon him, it paled in comparison to the torment he was subjected to just moments earlier. He tightened his jaw to the point where he feared his teeth might chip, but he inhaled with the waves, riding through them until they settled into something much more tolerable. Yet, as the injuries accumulated, the nausea clustered in the pit of his stomach and the dizziness swirled in his head, throwing off his senses.

"Shall I try another?" she asked, and it took Aizawa a moment longer than it should have to figure out she was asking him. "How about this, I'll let you choose this time. Should it be...your other shoulder?" she asked, jamming her hand through. "Or…" Slowly and tauntingly, her fingers danced their way over to his left clavicle, fingers already grasping the delicate bone before he could think about what she was asking. "Which will it be...Eraserhead?" she asked, her tone carrying more weight than it had been. "If you don't answer, then it'll be both, so make up your mind before I do."

"That's quite enough," their leader cut in, his voice alone snatching her intrusive hand away. Aizawa guessed this is why he wasn't letting her jump in more often; just from the few times she got involved, it was obvious she quickly spiraled down a slippery slope of destruction whenever she did get her way. "Eraser, while I must admire that spirit of yours, I also have to say that things really have to get moving along." His chair scraped back and he grunted as he got to his feet. "It's time to bring the man himself to us."

Aizawa tensed up, the contracting of his muscles only causing more aches to tremor through him. A million different scenarios ran through his mind, each worse and more devastating than the last. And, after what he did last...he was afraid he knew what was coming next. With that in mind, his body reacted on its own, his right arm tugging on his binds, injured wrist be damned. He'd rather damage that beyond repair than… His teeth clenched as his head lowered, doing what he could to hide it from view, knowing full well it was useless. Still, his face tilted as far down as his neck would allow, but it wasn't able to stay in that position for long. Once more, stony and steady hands gripped either side of his head, knowing what to do before he was even asked this time.

"Remember what I said," Caustic muttered, his voice now right next to the hero's head, hot breath brushing over his ear. "Try not to move too much. I don't want to cause more harm than I need to. 'Bullshit,' the other thought to himself, unwittingly letting out a low growl of hatred. "I gave you a chance, and you let it slip through your fingers," he muttered, lightly placing his hand over Aizawa's other eye.

In that instant, everything went still; he couldn't breathe, he couldn't think...all froze over and his sense of feeling fluttered away as he stiffened up. It was a lifetime before it came, before that same earth-shattering anguish erupted under the villain's hand. Things went in and out of focus, his ears rang deafeningly, and before he knew it, his body was heaving as his head fell forward; it was unable to tolerate all the strain and stress placed upon it anymore. He could have sworn all his insides were contracting, doing their best to rid him of his discomfort and unaware that it was only making it that much worse.

His whole face was on fire, pulsing and throbbing with molten lava. He didn't even know if he was breathing anymore, nothing was registering aside from pain. It took a few seconds, maybe even minutes - he had no concept of time, or how much time had gone by - before he found himself gasping in air, throat burning with every inhale. A sour and bitter taste lingered on his tongue. There was no more controlling himself, all sense of discipline were gone in an instant, seared into oblivion the moment that hand was placed upon him.

"I may have gotten a little overzealous," the enemy muttered as the man before him trembled and whimpered without restraint...barely conscious as his shoulders rose and fell with his convulsions. "I doubt he even has it in him to speak anymore, it's a shame, really. But, it matters not, this will do just as well. Perhaps even better." As he went to step away, a small, almost inaudible, uttering caught his attention, beckoning him to pause and glance back. "What was that, Eraser?" he questioned, a glint of intrigue in his tone. "I didn't quite catch that."

Aizawa took another shuddering breath, fighting against the need to retch again. "Y-You're making…" he paused to clear his throat and let out another compulsive choked whine, "a huge...mistake." He couldn't find the strength to face the man this time, his form ignoring his attempts to do so. His whole form had given up allowing him to do as he wished. His inhales were coming in in gulps, barely aware of what he was even saying, and the logical side of his mind yelled and screamed at him to just be quiet. But, the rest of him wanted to disobey, and that side was winning this battle. "Y-You've...lost," he whispered, voice unable to project any louder.

"We'll see about that," Caustic replied, carrying on. Eraser tried to focus on those steps, tried to narrow his attention to that one thing, but his blurry and fogged mind kept reeling him back in, only permitting him to catch snippets of the happenings around him. Things were going numb, all the throbs and reminders of his body's condition were crumbling away, leaving a shallow husk behind. And yet, his mind thought now was a good time to flash back to the memories of this past year...to his students...to his coworkers. To all of them. His own predicament forgotten as their faces spilled into his mind. 'Why now?' he questioned, his next inhale catching in the back of his throat painfully.

He had no idea what else they could do to him, and he was finding himself caring less and less. What else could they do? As far as he was concerned, they've already done their worst. Though, at the very least, they lost their trump card...there was nothing else, nothing else that would get him talking. Despite it all, the corner of his lips twitched. 'It doesn't matter what else they do,' he thought to himself, a cold and calming rush blanketing over him. In the back of his mind, he picked up on the steps returning, echoing and bouncing around off the inside of his muddled skull. His sense of orientation was thrown off, his head, moving as subtle stings traveled through his scalp. The last thing he remembered...was a 'click,' the sound of a shutter snapping mixed in with it all.

* * *

His hands clasped together tightly, thumbs running circles around one another, the young hero-to-be glanced around anxiously...waiting. After a few more seconds, Midoriya lowered his head, eyes locking onto his hands as they gripped tighter. What was taking him so long? He should have been here by now, this was like torture, making him wait like this. The boy took a deep breath to calm his nerves and slowly released it and his gaze traveled to stare out over the ocean instead. He didn't know how long he had been sitting there, but by now the sun had begun its dip down, stretching the shadows across the earth.

Sighing in frustration, he went to stand up, coming to the conclusion that maybe he just forgot or changed his mind. Then again, he normally would have mentioned something to him if that were the case. Shoulders slumped, he brushed himself off and got ready to head back home, he'd just try again tomorrow...if that would make much of a difference. Turning on his heel, he stopped mid spin, his stare landing on someone standing there.

"Sorry I'm late," the frail-looking man apologized, rubbing the back of his neck with a nervous and humorless laugh. "Got a little caught up in something, you know how it is," he shrugged as he strolled closer. As he reached the other, his expression fell into a more serious one; and, he had a sinking feeling he knew what this was all about, the calling him out here, the wanting to talk to him alone. "S-Something you wanted to talk about?" he questioned, dropping his hand to his side in a sad attempt at playing it casual.

For a moment, the young man said nothing, his eyes lowering to stare at his feet instead. Finally, after gathering the pieces of his composure back up, he just threw it out there. He knew if he thought about how he was going to ask this as long as he liked, then it was never going to get out there in the open. "About Aizawa-Sensei," he started off, noticing the slight shift in the other man the moment that name was mentioned. Guess it was a touchy subject even for him. "No one is telling us anything," he muttered. Then, lifting his head to stare the man in sunken eyes, "What's going on?" His words were demanding, but his tone pleading.

All Might lowered his brow, both his hands raising to rest upon the kid's shoulders. The weight of them served to ground him, to subdue the subtle tremor in him. "Young Midoriya," he breathed out heavily, "I had a feeling this is what you wanted to talk about. And, it hurts to say, but there isn't much I can tell you that you don't already know."

"But, you do know something, don't you?" he asked, unwilling to let it go at that. He came here for answers, and he wasn't about to leave here without them. "Please, tell me what you know about it," he practically begged. He thought back to when he passed by Mic earlier, the look in that man's eyes, it was something he'd never seen in any of their eyes before. And now, he knew what it was...it was fear. He was afraid. "Everyone's worried, aren't they? Don't you think we are too, his students?" he asked, voice breaking. "I think we at least have the right to know what all of you know."

The other exhaled lengthily and pulled his hands away to rest at his sides. "I have no doubt that you kids are concerned about him, but this is a very touchy matter," he went on, his own soul crushing under the weight of those wavering eyes. But, it was better this way. "This is something not to be taken lightly. Do you understand? It's the business of the pros. I know that's not what you want to hear, but-"

"'Butting your nose in is one of the principle qualities of a hero'," Midoriya muttered, cutting the man off. "You remember saying that, don't you? So, tell me, what do you know about all this?" he asked again, taking an involuntary step closer. "Please, I don't care how much it is, I just need to know."

The blond closed his eyes for a second before slowly reopening them. "You just have to do that don't you," he sighed. "I need to start thinking about what I'm saying before I say it. Now I guess it would make me a hypocrite if I didn't tell you," he said, straightening up and taking a few steps past the younger one. "Let's go for a walk," he offered, waving him along.

Midoriya swallowed thickly, the uneasy tightness in his throat constricting. But, he set his features in an expression of bravery and followed after the other. Their pace was slow, but somehow it was more relieving than standing still. They walked for a few minutes, the daylight was slowly running out, and the first stars revealed himself before the hero began talking.

"I wasn't lying, by the way, when I said we don't know much ourselves. All we can tell you, is Eraserhead is missing. And...none of us have a clue where he is," he admitted, the frustration of that relevance clear in his voice. "We know that he was taken, most likely alive, without a clue as to where his whereabouts are," he informed, tone growing more somber by the word.

"And…" the kid mumbled, unable to get his mind off one part of all this, "why did Mic have his weapon?" he asked, not missing the start that jolted the other. "Where did he get that from?" he pressed after realizing he must have struck something.

The pro hummed to himself for a moment, thinking of the best way to word this to cause the least amount of panic; however, that wasn't possible, there was no easy way to say or hear this. He had to keep in mind though, if this kid was to one day take his place, then he had to trust him to be able to handle this sort of stuff. He just never thought he'd have to this early on. "He found it," he answered honestly, pausing in the middle of his step to look down to the other. "It was discarded in the middle of the sidewalk near his home," he clarified. Before the kid had the chance to question more, he continued. "Along with blood. He was attacked in the middle of the night; and, that's as much as we know," he promised, meeting the boy's gaze.

He stared back, searching the man's stare, looking for any sign of distrust, but there was none, he was telling the truth. This is all they knew. Somehow, this was worse than him knowing nothing, it was hopeless. "But, you guys...you have a plan, right?" he asked, grasping at whatever sliver of faith he could see.

There was no reply, the man only looked away and continued his walking with his attention forward. "It's getting late," he announced, not stopping or looking back. "You should probably get back home before your mom starts to worry," he suggested. Then, unexpectedly, he hesitated once more and called one last thing back. "But, if I hear anything else, I'll let you know," he promised with a curt nod and a reassuring smile, one that never reached his troubled gaze. Midoriya returned the gesture, but his mouth remained in a hardened line as he came to a stop, watching as the other slowly got farther and farther away, the last of the day waning. This had gotten him nowhere, all of this, it was nothing but a huge and colossal waste of time.

* * *

Hizashi rubbed at his eyes in exhaustion as he leaned over his desk, his eyes occasionally flicking to the side, somehow expecting to see something at some point. Although, he knew how ridiculous that thought was. He was alone in here, and there was nothing that would change that. Sighing in exaggeration, he leaned back in his chair and tossed his feet up to cross on the surface of his work area. Arms folded firmly across his chest, the blond gazed up at the ceiling. He was slowly losing his mind, what was left of it anyway.

"Son of a…" he mumbled to himself, using his feet to swivel himself side to side, itching to do something; if he head to sit around much longer, he wasn't sure what he was going to do with himself. He hadn't kept this up for long before he finally gave up and resumed his previous position, elbows on his desk with his face in his hands.

The sound of walking soon caught his attention, but he didn't bother moving, didn't want to put forth the effort. And, to his annoyance, they got closer, clearly intending to come all the way to him. "Why don't you head home for the night," Midnight suggested, jumping up to sit on the edge of his desk without the man's permission. "You must be dead tired, and there's nothing else we can do at the moment," she said, hoping to talk some sense into the guy.

"I'm fine...wide awake," he muttered, lifting his head to sit up straight and cut his eyes over. "You can go home if you'd like, but I doubt I'd even be able to sleep if I wanted to." His expression softened for the first time that day as he forced the tension to drain from his posture. He was tired, there was no doubt about that, but every time he closed his eyes, all he saw was that scene, clear as day as if he was still staring at it.

The woman cast her worried gaze over, scanning over the weary circles under his eyes and the lines of worry etched into his forehead. "I guess there's no convincing you, huh?" she breathed out, crossing her legs to make herself more comfortable. "Well, if you're gonna be sticking around, make sure not to stress yourself over this too much. And, I know you're tired of hearing this, but don't beat yourself up over it either, there was nothing you could have done," she reinstated, her hand reaching over to consolingly grip his knee. "Ya'know, normally I would be against this, but I know what he means to you, so I won't lecture you about it."

"Like I'd listen anyway," he replied, lifting a hand to run through his hair, a couple strands falling out of place to droop over his face. He closed his eyes for only a moment, that same image popping up without welcome, forcing him to snap them back open. "I need some coffee," he announced, pushing himself up with surprising speed. Though, they both knew this was an excuse to move around, the stationary pose he had taken began to wear his mind down.

He only got a few steps away and the other spoke up again. "And, Mic," she said, her tone completely different from a moment ago.

"Hmm?" he hummed in acknowledgement, not turning to face her.

"You know he'll be alright, right?" she asked, remaining seated where she was.

For a few seconds, he didn't reply, but she didn't miss the slight rise of his head with the question. "Yeah, I know...he has to be," he muttered with a deep inhale. "I don't need to be told what's already a given," he added, turning far enough to give her a sly grin. "Knowing him, he's probably out there giving hell."

The shared a look of understanding before he finally turned back around. "Hey, you want a cup while I'm at it?" he asked, continuing on.

"Nah," she answered, getting up to stretch. "Unlike you, I plan to at least get a few hours before tomorrow."

"Suit yourself," he shrugged, only getting a few more feet as another stepped in...or, more or less burst in, panting. Mic didn't ask what was going on, too startled as his eyes widened from lying eyes on the near panicked Blood King, the expression he donned unbefitting of his character.

He looked between the both of them, his gaze reflecting their apprehension. "The both of you, back to the meeting room, now," he ordered, leaving no room for question.

"Wait, what the he-"

"I said now!" he repeated, making the gravity of the request all to clear. Hizashi took only a second to glance over to the woman, who appeared just as confused as himself, if not more so. And, she was the first to react, going after the man as soon as they broke eye contact. The blond, on the other hand, was a few beats behind her, pulse thrumming in his ears. They weren't supposed to pick this up until the next morning, they were to take the rest of the day off unless… His teeth grit and he picked up his pace, now only a step behind the others.

They arrived surprisingly fast considering the distance they had to walk, but the journey there was over in a flash. Upon entering, the first two strolled in swiftly, Mic, on the other hand, was much more hesitant; the atmosphere hit like a ton of bricks on his shoulders. There were only a few heroes left in here: Nezu, of course, Snipe and Blood King. The rest had already retired for the night, wanting to get some rest before picking things back up tomorrow. The weight of everyone's bleak spirits was suffocating.

"What's this all about?" he demanded, slowly walking in to flick his attention over them all. Nearly all of them averted their eyes, obviously none of them wanting to be the one to break the news to him. "Is anyone gonna talk?!" he asked, looking to the one person that was still looking his way. Then he saw it, an envelope under the principals paw. His jade gaze swirled with curiosity and terror at the possibilities of what that could be.

"I think it's best you sit down...both of you," Nezu suggested. He waited until both Mic and Midnight lowered themselves before sliding the paper over, and his own beady eyes cut away when they accepted it.

Hizashi was the one to reach out for it first, his arm reacting before he himself could, and his fingers chilled over as the brushed over it. Beyond that, he couldn't move; he didn't know if it was just his nerves or what, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Not until Midnight reached over to give him a slight encouraging nudge. Inhaling deeply through his nose, he finally lifted the paper up and opened it up to reach in for the contents. His fingers were shaking terribly, making this simple task harder than it should have been.

This was it, it was finally out far enough for him to catch a glimpse and his hold instantly faltered, causing the picture to flutter to the table. His hand was still hovering in the air, visibly shaking enough for all to see. Was this real? Maybe he really did fall asleep, this being a dream was the only explanation he was willing to accept.

He felt sick to his stomach at the sight; both fury and horror battled for the top in his head, but neither won in the end. He swallowed thickly, unable to tear his gaze away from the image...and yet, he couldn't stand to look at it. There was so much blood and bruising, he was almost unrecognizable. His wavering gaze stared at it for a few seconds more until someone else reached over and pulled it away, farther from his view.

"Is that…?" The woman asked, staring down at the image. There was no mistaking it, it was definitely Eraser. Under the bruises and burned and bloodied blindfold was Aizawa. She opened her mouth to speak again, but Nezu gave a soft order.

"Turn it over," he instructed, tone low with refrained anger.

Seeing as the blond wasn't going to do, she took it upon herself to pick the picture back up, her own gut twisting at having to look at it again. Yet, she forced herself to keep a straight face and did as she was asked, scanning over the words scrawled sloppily on the back. "An address?" she asked, both confused and skeptical. Why would they give away where they were so easily and after such a short amount of time. She was expecting some sort of ransom or something, not a beacon.

They all jumped at the 'bang' that followed after, Mic's fist shaking as it rested on the table. "So," he started, tone steady and clear, "When are leaving?" he asked, a fire in his eyes that charred their usual playful appearance.

* * *

 **:D There it is, hope ya liked it, and shit is about to hit the fan soon enough. As you can imagine, a pissed Mic is probably rather dangerous. XD**


	4. Turn of Events

**Beta read by: SinikkavonWolperting and DragonRiderSayomi**

 **First of all, I wanna say thank you all so freaking much for all the support on this, and I am equally excited and nervous about the reactions to this chapter. It's a bit of a bombshell. XD**

 **Btw...both my beta's kind of hate me for this one...**

* * *

 **Aqua and Luna : I think you might already know the answer to whether it goes smoothly or not. XD It will be interesting, that's for sure. And, thank you once again. C:**

 **Guest : Why thank you kindly. And, I have no plans of stopping anytime soon. If I could work on this continuously, I would.**

 **Gaheller Saberhagen: Yaaaaaassssssssss Honestly same. I feel weird saying it, but the moment I saw him, I was like 'Yup...he's the one...it has to be him,' as I do with all my favorites, but that's not the point. Oh man, I've actually been planning Mic's rage mode, and all I will say is, it's not going to be pleasant thing, for anyone. OwO Jesus Christ, I may be messed up, but I don't think I could go that far. XD Not in this fic anyway...I could go that far and beyond, but maybe I'll save that. Besides, his eyes are kinda melted~ Anyway, thank you so much for the lovely review, and hope you enjoy this next chapter. :D**

 **KittyCat809 : HNNNNNG, thank you so freaking much, you words are very much appreciated. ;w; Well, here it is, the next one, hope it's as cruel as I want it to be.**

 **inFamousSlyMonkey : Thank you very much, so glad you're liking it so far, and hope you continue to enjoy it. C:**

* * *

He couldn't remember the last time he was that angry, that ready to jump into a fight. But, here he was, body trembling with a combination of anger and anticipation. Without any form of warning, Mic snatched the photo from Midnight's hand, staring intently at the words scribbled on its back. "I know where this is," he muttered, a fluttering sensation itching in his veins. His fingers instinctively furled around the paper, crumpling it in his palm before he tossed it back down to the table and turned on his heel to leave.

"Wait," Snipe stopped him with the single word, on his feet as well as he closed the gap between them and even went as far as to stand in front of him. "We've been talking," he started, eliciting the blond to glance behind him as all the others had their heads bowed, "And we think it's best for you to sit this one out."

Mic furrowed his brows and went to step around the other, not caring to reply to that, but Snipe merely shifted to stand in the way again. "Move it," he demanded, stepping close enough that their faces were only inches apart.

"You heard what I said," Snipe repeated. "It's been decided, sit this one out and leave it to us. It doesn't matter what you want, it's best this way," he tried to reason, not wanting to have to drag this out longer than they had to. The answer should have already been clear enough. "I'm sorry, but we can't have your emotions getting in the way of the rescue," he said, laying out what was on everyone's mind. Hizashi groze at that, something snapped in his head and his first instinct was to grab hold of the man's collar.

"I don't care what any of you think, I'm going out there. No matter what any of you say, I'm not staying behind when he's out there," he promised before his hand was harshly swatted away. The two of them stared one another down for a few more moments until the blond scoffed to himself and, this time, shoved his way by.

This time, no one stepped up to stop him, no one said a word; they only shared a knowing glance between themselves before they, too, began getting up from their seats. "Shall I alert the others?" Midnight asked after some time. She didn't think the blond would be so rash, but that expression he held just then...she wasn't so sure even more. If that were the case, allowing him to go out there alone wouldn't have been the best idea.

"You contact the others, and I'll go talk to him," Nezu instructed, giving her a small and barely noticable wave as he strolled by. His whole body tense, the principal trailed after the other man, surprised to see just how far he had gotten in the short amount of time; his legs struggled to catch up to the man. And, the only reason he did was because the other heard him coming and was kind enough to slow down a little bit. "Mic," he addressed, coming to a stop to look at the guy's back, "I suggest to think this over for a minu-"

"I have thought it over," he interrupted, slowly turning to face him. "Been doing nothing but thinking for the last 24 hours.

Nezu's expression dropped a few degrees, but he didn't miss a beat. "You know you can't rush into this, we don't know the situation, and going in headfirst could be disastrous. The fact that they sent us the address means they expect us to come, and a trap is almost guaranteed," he went on, his voice low as his words were careful. "All I'm saying is, it's far too dangerous to go in there without some forethought."

Mic took a deep breath and slowly let it out as a slightly trembling hand ran through his roots before dropping back to his side. "Yeah, I've considered that. I'm pissed, but I'm not stupid; I don't plan on running right into their hands. But, I am going," he stubbornly declared, almost glaring down, showing that he wasn't going to be convinced against it. His mind was already made up and there was no changing it. For a moment, he held that contact, practically daring him to deny him this opportunity.

"I don't intend on stopping you, just to tell you that we're all upset, and we're all going to get him back. This isn't just on you…" he reminded, leaving it at that as he turned his back on the man to head back.

Hizashi watched as the small bear walked away, his fist clenched, shaking as nails bit into its palm. It drew back without his permission and instantly shot back forward, only to stop and inch from the wall. Slowly, fingers unfurled and the tips of them gently touched the surface and his hand flattened against it. His forehead soon followed as he began taking in slower inhales, needing to calm himself down. But, the thrumming in his chest was going string, only fueled more by knowing how damn close they were now. They knew where he was...now, they just had to go to him.

* * *

His phone buzzed in his pocket, eliciting a small jolt from the man, and his heart skipped a beat at the name on the screen as it continued to go off in his hand. For a fraction of a second, Toshinori's breath caught painfully in his chest. Why was she calling at this time? He wondered that, but deep down, he was afraid that he knew exactly the reason for this, and a knot developed at the thought of it. Shoving his doubt and moment of fear to the side, he answered and pressed the phone to his ear with a tight, "Yeah?"

The blond waited as information was repeated back to him, his eyes widening all the while in both disbelief and apprehension. And, he got the same feelings as they did; there was something wrong about all this. "When are you guys heading out?" he asked, an edge of urgency in his tone. He listened for a couple more minutes, nodding and humming to himself as he soaked it all in. The man was barely aware of how his hand was gradually tightening around the device, his mind racing at every word spoken.

The hero wasn't able to gather a whole lot from what he was hearing, but from the sounds of it, they knew where Aizawa was...and it wasn't looking good. Luckily, they didn't go into detail about the photo, and yet, somehow, he felt as though he could see it so vividly in the back of his mind. Finally, his question was answered, and the moment he got what he wanted, he ended the call and was preparing to put it away when he hesitated...that one promise ringing clear in his ears. ' _But, if I hear anything else, I'll let you know.'_ His jaw tightened at that, why did he have to say things like that? He really needed to start thinking more.

He glanced back at his screen, his thumb hovering just over the contacts option, and both sides of his brain argued with one another. And, knowing how much he would come to regret this, he let out a heavy sigh and stuffed the phone away before he could give this any more thought. "Sorry, young Midoriya, but I'm sure you'll understand," he mumbled to himself with his eyes cast downward. But, now wasn't the time to dwell on that, time was of the essence, and it couldn't be wasted standing around considering the consequences, not this time. Casting one last glance back at the horizon, now dark with the departure of the day, he set off towards the school, muscles tense as he went.

There was no telling how fast he was going, but the trip over was dragging on for hours as far as he could tell; he couldn't get there fast enough, and yet, once he saw it on the distance, it never appeared to get any closer. Yet, as impossible as it seemed, soon enough he stood there, before its doors as he took only a few seconds to catch his breath. This was it, they had no idea what they were in for, no idea what to expect or even what kind of quirks they were dealing with. Unfortunately, with the way things were going, they didn't have the luxury to look into it. All there was to do was hope for the best and go for it with whatever hasty plan they could muster.

He pushed forward, conscious placing one foot in front of the other as he sauntered in, his steps bounced off the empty halls. His own breaths were about the only other thing he could hear, and for a moment, he wasn't so sure of they had actually waited him or not; however, as he rounded the next corner, his concerns were instantly answered. "Mic…" he mumbled, not missing the slight twitch of the man's head of acknowledgement "Why are you out here?" he asked out of curiosity, glancing around a bit to make sure there wasn't another standing around that he wasn't aware of.

Hizashi shrugged, his back pressed against the wall as he showed no signs of moving just yet. "Needed to clear my head, I guess," he sighed, taking his hand to shove his glasses out of the way and rub at his stinging eyes.

Toshinori looked him over again, taking in his haggard appearance, and, for some reason, he found that reasoning to be more than a little hard to believe. "Where's everyone else?" he asked instead, the mood a bit too heavy for his liking.

Mic finally looked up for the first time, and there was something in his gaze that the other man couldn't quite place. He didn't know what to call it, but it clashed dangerously with his cool and collected demeanor. "There just in there," he replied flatly, jabbing a thumb in the direction of the meeting room. "They've been in there for almost an hour now, talking and planning and taking their sweet time. I don't see the point in trying to come up with a strategy when we don't even know what these bastards can do," he blurted out, releasing some of the pent up frustration All Might knew was brewing underneath.

Even so, the other waited until he was done speaking, letting him get it all out there before he responded. "I was just told the minimum about what's going on, but you know as well as I do that they're doing what they have to, right?" he questioned rhetorically. "We can't afford to make any mistakes."

"We can't afford to take forever either," he replied, calmer. "They're waiting for you though, so…" he made a waving motion with his hand, urging the number one hero to hurry things along. With that simple motion, his impatience was loud and clear. He made sure to give the man at least one reassuring smile, if nothing else then to affirm that he really was alright, and that he wasn't going to run off the moment he got the chance. Besides, if that were the case, he would have done so already. "Go get things finished up so we can beat these guys to a pulp," he muttered, lowering his gaze once more.

Toshinori kept his attention on him for a few seconds as he walked by, his chest aching for what he must be going through. He never thought about it until now, but he was closer than anyone to Aizawa, and he never even considered how much it must have been affecting him. "We're going to get him back, and he's going to be alright," he promised.

"Why does everyone keep saying that?" Mic asked with a bitter chuckle.

All Might had no response to that; that was the only thing he knew to say in this situation, and for once, he was at a loss. When it came to strangers, it was so much easier to just smile and tell them that all would be well, but for someone like Mic, someone he actually knew and who knew him well enough, it just wasn't that simple anymore. "W-We're going to do everything we can," he corrected before pushing passed the door, leaving the other to himself. Though, it didn't matter what he said, he knew that all too well.

It was something that wouldn't resolve until this was over, until he could see with his own eyes that everything was over. To be honest, he wasn't even sure he could convince himself at this point; from the sounds of it...it wasn't very hopeful.

"It's about time you got here." Blood King welcomed as soon as the blond entered the room. He glanced around...nearly everyone was sitting around the table, some appearing more exhausted than others. But, they were all accounted for. He muttered a swift apology and took his own seat, crossing his hands over the table and leaning forward. Upon taking his seat, his sharp gaze practically magnetized to the photo in the center, and there it locked on for a sold ten seconds. Was that…? His jaw constantly clenched and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. So...these were the kinds of people they were dealing with. He knew there was nothing he could have done, and yet, why did he feel this burning sense of guilt in his core...like it was somehow his fault?

Not a moment after he ripped his gaze from the image, a chill within his blood, the conversation was picked up where it was last left off… Throughout, his attention flicked between that single picture and whoever was currently speaking. He barely paid attention, but he was sure he understood the gist of the the haphazard plan was to take effect within the next couple of hours.

* * *

All the while, Hizashi stood there, waiting in anticipation, his nerves only flaring up more and more with each passing second. And, by the time the first person walked out into the hall, his fingers were thrumming against his arms and his legs were aching to get moving. As they strolled by, only a few of them glanced in his direction. "It's time to get going," Midnight spoke up, the only one other than All Might to give him the light of day. She paused next to him and gave his arm a light squeeze, "Let's go give them hell."

He couldn't keep the smirk from slipping onto his face, and with a heavy sigh, he pushed himself away from the wall. Brushing his hands together, he fell in step next to the woman, his fingers just itching to grab hold of one of those guys. This moment could not have come soon enough, and with the amount of time he was left to himself, several scenarios had time to play out through his head, different plans, various methods to carry out his revenge; all of them still fresh, still growing.

Next to him, Midnight glanced over, particularly to his eyes, the hardness of them, that distant look that told he was only looking forward, and in one direction. It was a look that caused unease to swell up, and she had this pestering voice in the back of her mind that warned her about allowing him to tag along for this one. She supposed she'd just have to keep a close eye on him; the last thing they needed was him losing his cool. If Aizawa really was in as bad a state as the photo suggested, then she wasn't even sure she'd be able to control herself when they arrived, let alone another who was worse off.

"Everyone, prepare yourselves," Snipe called out over the others, "we should be there within the next couple of hours."

Hizashi's grip tightened at that announcement, and, strangely enough, a sense of excitement began to course through him. Eagerness was pumping through his veins, and if only for the time being, his worry was chased away by his new desire for the heat of the fight.

For the entire way there, the conversations were few and far between; and, for the most part, all of them kept to themselves, all consumed in their own worlds and thoughts. The silence was almost unbearable, but not a single one of them had it in them to break it. Most of them fell into looking out the windows, mentally preparing themselves what they were in for, or for the worst of what they expected. They had all seen the photo, all of them had a basic idea of what they would see, but it was clear that something like that was nothing like seeing it in person.

The air was heavy, damn near crushing with all of them falling into their solemn moods, heads bowed and hands clasped. All Might was about the only one with his attention raised, glancing around the lot of them; it was about the same as being at a funeral...all of them were already so defeated and accepting their loss. Re-adjusting himself, the number one hero sat up straighter and cleared his throat, instantly catching the attention of all the others. They all looked his way, cutting their eyes over, but no one did any more than that.

"You guys act like he's already dead," he muttered, voice thick with accusation. "I would have thought you'd at least have more faith in the man than that." And there it was, the flashes of regret intertwined with insult that crossed their eyes. "What kind of heroes go into a rescue already conquered?" he asked rhetorically. Still, no one said a word to begin with, but more of them sat up straighter and he had a few more attentive pairs of eyes upon him. "It's not over yet."

Next to him, Thirteen jolted slightly as he averted his gaze. "Sorry," he muttered with a deep sigh, "you're right, we should be better than this. We're pros, maybe we need to start acting like it," he agreed, looking back up to the blond with a firm nod.

Soon enough, the others were following suit along with a few more muttered apologies. "You're always one to get the spirits raised," Recovery Girl commented from her spot, her usual and warm smile on her face despite the concern that weighed on her heart. "Just make sure you keep that up when we're there in the middle of everything," she added, knowing full well the man's compassion when it came to those closer to him.

At least for the remainder of the ride there, the apprehensive atmosphere was a little easier to breathe in. However, once the location was in sight, the air had a completely different density within it as they all tensed. And, at least, they were taken as far as they could, each of them filtering out and stretching their legs. Now, it was just a couple minutes of a walk away...just a few more minutes and they'd be able to get their friend back. They were so damn close, and yet, he still seemed so far out of reach.

Without giving anyone the chance to speak up or take the lead, Mic stepped to the front, beginning the journey forward. "What are you guys waiting for?" he asked over his shoulder, seemingly back to his usual self.

"We do have a plan, you know, we can't just go barging in," Snipe reminded, though he knew, as did they all, that it most likely didn't matter if they had one or not; he was likely to do what he wanted anyway. "Half of us are to stay put while the other half circles around to the back and finds a safe way in," he explained, voice precise and sharp.

"Well, I'm not staying behind," the blond replied flatly.

In the next second, Midnight was next to him, as was All Might. "No one expected you to," she said, crossing her arms. "We've decided that it will be the three of us; the fewer of us there are in the inside, the better. It's best they aren't aware of how many of us there really are," she went on, glancing back at the seemingly abandoned warehouse. "So, whenever the two of you are ready, we should be going."

"I've been ready," Mic replied, cracking his knuckles with his gaze fixated on the dilapidated structure. With that being said, the three of them sauntered forward, careful to keep their distance as they sauntered around, sticking as close to the other buildings as much as they could. It was a slow process, but as far as they could tell, it was their best bet. Sneak around and bust in, they would never see it coming. Sure, it was obvious they were on their way, but from which way was unknown.

Once they were around the back, they took a few moments to prepare themselves and make sure the others were up to speed on everything. "Alright," All Might breathed out after offering to go in first, much to the other blond's annoyance, "on the count of three. One...two...three!"

What happened next was a blur, Hizashi's mind just went blank as his body moved on its own and he charged along with the other two. He could hardly hear the commotion over his own pounding heart, and he could see nothing through his own red-walled tunnel. His feet pounded against the pavement and his pulse rushed through his veins. All of this, it was surreal, too good to be true; but, he still wanted, needed, to believe that this was it, that it was as easy as it appeared to be. His speed increased, almost to the point where he was passing the others, but they were already upon it by then, and the wall was already being knocked down by the number one.

The stale air hit the three of them first; the rusty and musty aroma burning their nostrils and stopping them in their tracks. The three of them waited for the dust to settle as it clouded up and blocked their view. It was the silence though, the eerie stillness that really had them on edge; it was dead quiet.

It was empty.

"Son of a bitch!" Mic shouted before he could process what he was doing, his hand curled into a fist and struck the withered surface, causing a shuddering echo to travel through the rest of the structure. "Are you kidding!? Where the hell are they!?" he questioned, charging towards the center of the room, but a heavy and firm grip on his shoulder anchored him in place. "Get off me," he demanded with a harsh shrug.

"Mic…" Midnight muttered as the man sauntered away, walking to the center of the room where he finally stopped. For a few seconds, he only stood there, his head tilted back and eyes set on the ceiling.

At first glance, it appeared as though he were merely deep in thought, grieving over the fact that they were played like fools. But, at closer inspection, they could see the subtle expansion of his chest as he continued to slowly breathe in. They barely had time to cover their ears, let alone stop him, before he cried out with a volume impressive even by his standards.

"WHERE ARE YOU, YOU DAMN COWARDS!?" he demanded, the whole of the warehouse shaking and complaining under the strain. As the last vibrations died down, the man was still there, in the same position as his shoulders rose and fell with his heavy breaths. He still didn't look in their direction, and neither of them wanted to approach the guy when he was like this; however, it was clear they couldn't very well leave him there in such a state. It was damn near impossible to watch on in silence.

Letting out a heavy and saddened sigh, the number one slowly began to make his way over, his steps surprisingly soft for a man of his size and stature. "Hizashi," he muttered, using his real name without thinking as he drew closer. Again, he slowly extended a hand towards the other, half expecting it to be swatted away again. Yet, the action never came, but he never got to reach other either as something caught his ear. Something close and muffled.

"Did you hear that?" Mic asked, his voice contrasting heavily with his previous intensity. Slowly, and purposely, his stare trailed down to look directly at the floor, and his eyes widened in realization. "He is here," he muttered, "he's here and we almost didn't even know it." The thought of them leaving when Eraser was right beneath him, it was nearly shattering.

At this point, Midnight joined them as well, her eyes alight with hope. "There has to be a way down, search for a way down. And, don't bother being stealthy, it's too late for that now," she said, cutting her eyes over to the huge hole in the wall. "Just do whatever you have to do and as quickly as you can," she commanded, taking to scanning the floor as well. Of course, there was no need, the other two were way ahead of her, both of which were searching along the walls. And, it wasn't long before All Might spoke up, calling the two of them over as his eyes finally caught sight of something.

His eyes followed along the even lines along the floor, no doubt it was a trap door, which meant there was only one place it could lead. "I'll go first," Hizashi offered, not leaving much room for debate as he stepped in front of the other man and wasted no time in prying the door open. It squeaked and complained against the forceful opening, but with little effort on his end, it was perpendicular to the floor as he stared down it's gaping maw. If this place wasn't musty before, then it sure as hell was now. It was nearly pitch dark aside from the dim light that could be seen at the bottom.

There wasn't another moment's reluctance before he took the first step, cringing at the way it protested under his weight. Luckily, there was no reason to believe it would snap and for the most part was sturdy enough. Every step downard was another inhale caught in his chest, another beat of his heart banging against his eardrums. Hizashi's mouth was abruptly drained of all moisture as he reached the halfway mark. Then, he paused, the sound of a pained gasp caught his attention.

"Shouta," the blond whispered to himself, a cloudy sensation filling his head. And, at the sound of that, his steps grew faster, the bottom of the stairs approached much faster and before he knew it, he was standing at the base of them, his pulse racing faster than it ever had before.

He couldn't breathe. He couldn't move. He couldn't think. But still, his body trembled and his muscles tensed; he couldn't believe it. Aizawa, his friend, he was actually here. Mic shook his head, trying to jar all his senses back into the right places before his feet began moving on their own; the others close behind.

"E-Eraser," he stuttered, walking to the back of the chair slowly. He saw the picture, so he didn't know why he was so nervous about seeing his face. "Can you hear me?" he asked as he made his way around. All Might was crouching at the back, hands already working on undoing the binds around the man's wrists. He let out a small gasp at the unnatural angle of the right, but there was not way to do this without disturbing it.

"Midnight, go let the others know we found him," he requested, the ropes falling away.

Without question, the woman set off with a small 'yeah'. Unaware of all else going on, Mic continued around until he stood before Aizawa, and he nearly choked on his next inhale. It was so much worse in person, and he felt as though he just might vomit. The wrapping around his eyes, it was burned and bloodied, the wounds even extended a little ways underneath the scraps of cloth. Covering his mouth with one hand, he reached out with the other, his fingers just brushed over the fabric. That was all it took, all it took for the man to draw in a sharp breath and flinch away.

"H-Hey, don't worry, we're here now," he promised. "Let me get this off of you," he mumbled, slipping a single finger under the blindfold. He barely twitched his finger, and already he could feel the resistance, the way it pulled at the wounds and refused to let go. As if that wasn't bad enough, the other cried out with the searing agony it caused him. He didn't know what part caused it. Whether it was the sight of the wounds, the implication of them, or the possible fate of the man's vision, but something in him snapped. He wanted nothing more than to punch something, than to break something. It took every last ounce of his willpower to stifle his calamitous urges. His need to make sure Aizawa was safe and out of here heavily outweighed his nagging and vengeful inner voice.

"Don't touch that," All Might instantly spoke up, his own voice laced with panic. "You'll only cause more harm and damage," he added, his brows furrowed. His eyes...it was clear to him the extent of the destruction that must have been done to them, and he was sure Hizashi understood as well, but neither of them spoke about it, they couldn't easily accept that. That being said, he was finished untying his hands and had moved on to his ankles and made quick work of that as well.

Mic took a long and shaky breath as Aizawa's chest rose and fell erratically; his inhales were shallow and uneven. And, as much as he hated to admit it, he would have much preferred if he was unconscious right now. Maybe he should have had Midnight knock him out before she left, but it was too late for that now, they had to focus on getting him out of there.

Carefully, and receiving multiple groans and hisses, the number one eventually had the man in his hold, small spams wracked his lithe form as he tried his damnedest to ride out the waves of pain. As gently as he could, he made his way back towards the stairs, keeping the man held close to his own body. "Don't worry," he mumbled, "it's alright now."

It was the first time they heard him speak, if it could be called that; it was more along the lines of a choked uttering. "Don't speak," Mic mumbled, afraid that if he spoke any louder his emotion would shine through.

But, Eraser's mouth continued to mutter something incoherent. The both of the blonds exchanged a confused glance, brushing it off as delusions from the agony he was in. However, with a few more ramblings, and just as they reached the bottom of the stairs, there was one word they made out. The mere mention of it ran the blood cold and caused their bodies to go rigid.

"B...omb," Aizawa muttered again, and then a third time until he was confident he had their attention. Without another word, he slowly and weakly raised his right hand, his dislocated wrist forgotten in his fear. And, like a knife to their guts, he placed the appendage on his left side and repeated the warning one last time.

* * *

 **Yup, there is a bomb in him. ;w; I'm so sorry for such a cruel cliffie, but I hope you all understand. XD**


	5. Rescued

**Beta read by: SinikkavonWolperting and DragonRiderSayomi**

 **Again, thank you so much to those reading and enjoying this. And, I apologize for the wait, but one of my betas had to go out of town for a bit, and I chose to wait until she got back. Besides, it was fun to make people wait. ;D**

 **ALSO, there is a song for this on that I used as inspiration, feel free to play it while reading the this chapter, the first part anyway. Song it "Louder than Words" by "Les Friction"**

* * *

 **KittyCat809 : XD Because it's fun, and he's my favorite of course. As ironic as it is, the favorites never have a good time.~ It's due to Houdini's quirk, the way she can pass through things and allow others to pass through things as well, just takes a bit of manipulation. c: Andddddd, those questions and wonderings will be answered in this chapter. XD So, hope you enjoy the next installment. 3**

 **inFamousSlyMonkey : I hate to say this and may receive a bit of judgement, but I don't think I have ever seen that one. ;w; Well, they find a way to get it out, that's for sure, but, it's not All Might that gets it done. XD Thank you so much, and the wait is now over. ;D**

 **Aqua and Luna : Hnnnnng, why thank you so much, hopefully this one is just as nice~ I can only hope. lol **

**PromiseMeForever15 : I'm so sorry, but I had to, torture, both to the characters and readers, is just what I love doing most. XD And thank you so much. I was so nervous starting this story having just gotten into the show like 2 weeks ago. So glad people like it, and glad to hear the characters feel natural enough. C:**

 **Guest : LOL Well, here it is. It took some time, but it's finally up, and I hope the wait was worth it.**

* * *

" _B...omb," Aizawa muttered again, and then a third time until he was confident he had their attention. Without another word, he slowly and weakly raised his right hand, his dislocated wrist forgotten in his fear. And, like a knife to their guts, he placed the appendage on his left side and repeated the warning one last time._

"W-What?" Mic stuttered, his worried and horrified gaze snapping straight to the other man's sunken stare. "What the hell is he talking about!?" he basically demanded, taking a step closer, his own hand moving to hover over Eraser's trembling touch. Slowly, he gently nudged the other's hand away to inspect for himself, and the first thing he noticed was the lack of blood. If there really was a bomb, then where was the evidence?

As he squinted, he finally lowered his hand and prodded the area; sure enough, there was clearly something just under the skin, even through the clothing, he could make it out. "What is it?" All Might asked, knowing exactly what it was, but he couldn't stop himself from throwing the question out there just to confirm. The look on the blond's face though, it was drained of color, his lips partially separated, and the hero's heart nearly ceased its beating at the sight of it. He could almost feel the man's fear radiating off of him. "Mic," he spoke louder, forcing the other man to finally glance in his direction.

Hizashi swallowed thickly; for once in his life, the man struggled to find his voice; it kept getting stuck in his throat. Finally, he inhaled deeply to try and calm himself a bit more. "I-I can feel it," he stammered, "there really is something there. Without hesitation, he pulled the shirt aside to get a real look at it, only confusing himself further. Again, there was no marks, no cuts...nothing. It was almost as if it had...phased through the skin. "We have to get it out," he declared, yet, he couldn't bring himself to move an inch; what were they even supposed to do? They couldn't leave it like that. Was it on a timer? Would it go off if they went too far? What if they moved too much, would the jostling disturb it? All these questions, so many thoughts and scenarios ran through his head. Hizashi wasn't aware of the mumbling or the shaking until a grounding voice reeled him back in.

"Calm down," he said lowly, "If you start panicking now, then we won't be able to help him," he said with a small and reassuring nod. Despite the internal storm that were his own fears and concerns, his voice was surprisingly steady. Knowing that they had to get the man out of here as quickly as possible was only making this decision harder for him, but slowly - gently - he placed Aizawa on the floor, careful not to cause any more pain for the man than he was already feeling.

The other held his breath until everything was settled, and a second later, he was crouched down next to him. "We need to get the paramedics in here," he muttered, his hands inches from Aizawa's torso, and his eyes locked onto the mutilated blindfold. "They can get it removed, then we can get him out of he-"

"I would advise against touching that," came the cold, calm, voice from a few feet away. The both of them, caught off guard, swiveled their heads in the direction it came from. They had no idea how they didn't hear the man coming; too occupied and distracted, the idea of others still being here completely slipped their minds the moment they saw Aizawa. "That's set to go off with the simple flip of a switch. Any wrong move, and I'll give the cue to…" instead of finishing that statement, he clicked his tongue as a replacement.

A dead quiet filled the air for only a moment until Mic sliced through the silence. "You…" he almost growled, fingers already curling up at the sight of this man. His throat was itching, and if it weren't for the strong grasp on his wrist, he couldn't promise he could have stayed put. "The hell'd you do?" he questioned, teeth grit together as his breaths hissed between them. His glare never faltered from the sickly-appearing man as he paced a bit to the side. "ANSWER ME!" he commanded, causing both the enemy as well as All Might to flinch.

Turning his head to the side as the noise bounced off the walls, Caustic closed his eyes for a second while the ringing subised. "I'd watch that tone, you don't want to startle the woman who has that man's life in her hands, do you?"

Mic was sure something in him snapped, but the grip that remained on his wrist warned him against any rash reactions. "What do you want?" the number one hero asked, trying to get something going before the man could make possibly the biggest mistake of his life. "Obviously you didn't want to kill us, or you would have blown us all up by now," he concluded, straightening himself backup to fold his arms over his chest. "And, I'm assuming you're just using him as leverage, am I right?" He had no doubt it was all true; however, saying it out loud like that, it left an uneasy knot in his core.

Even Hizashi stiffened, the thought of that never occurred to him, and now he really wished he hadn't heard that. "What?" he muttered, his attention darting back over to his friend, and again, he could only look at his face.

"Trust me, I didn't want it to come to this, but he left me no other choice. He wasn't cooperating," the sickly man replied with a shrug. "This was my absolute last resort." He paced around a few more feet, drawing closer each time he moved. "I asked some simple questions, Eraser refused to answer. And, I thought for sure someone like him would value a sense such as sight a little more than he wo-" Caustic's words were cut short, and a second later the air was expelled from his lungs and his back throbbed with the force. Instinctively, his eyes squeezed shut, and he opened one just enough to see the furious face of the man before him. "Did I strike a nerve?" he asked, voice tight from the pressure against him.

Hizashi didn't utter a single word, knowing that if he did, there was a chance of bringing the whole place down. And, if not that, then he didn't want to risk rupturing Aizawa's eardrums. Instead, he settled for shoving the guy more harshly against the wall and rose his other hand, furled into a fist, as he got ready to swing it forward. But, he froze with his punch still suspended, his eyes widening from a sudden searing pain erupting on his wrist, the one that held the villain in place. Shocked, and his body acting on its own, he jerked his hand away, and glanced just long enough to see the fresh burn that marred the flesh...in the shape of a hand. So, that's what his quirk was.

Then, it clicked, and his mind went back to the burned appearance of the blindfold, the wounds that peeked from underneath, and his blood boiled at the connection. "You did that," he whispered, tone trembling with quelled rage. He was about to grab hold of the man again, completely disregarding his quirk and disregarding his own well-being until a harsh yank pulled him away.

"Stay with him," All Might instructed, nodding his head towards Eraser, who hadn't moved an inch since they laid him down. "He's going to need someone to be there for him should he wake up," he muttered, needing to say no more than that to get Mic moving.

Hizashi slowly blew out through his nose, frustrated that his animosity had nowhere to go but to remain inside and build up. "Right," he muttered, having to force his legs to start moving. It took way more willpower than it should have, but he managed to focus his emotions on something else for the time being. He dropped to his knees next to the dark haired man, his fingers dug into the fabric of his pants as he looked him over again. Somehow, every time he brought his gaze upon Aizawa, the image of it just got worse and harder to look at.

"You never answered my question," Toshinori went on, never missing a beat. What do you want?" he repeated, hoping that the shorter distance would be enough of an intimidation to get some answers out in the open. His index finger tapped against his arm as he waited.

Caustic took a few seconds to catch his breath, his brows furrowed and his eyes cutting over to the hero that just attacked him. "One snap of my fingers...that's all it'll take," he warned, staring daggers at Mic. "Try that again, and there won't be a warning." Standing back upright, his hand reached to massage his neck and he brought his attention back to All Might. "It should be obvious, I wanted you," he finally replied, the unmistakable resentment tangible in his deep set gaze. "He wouldn't give me what I wanted, so the next best choice was to get it from the source," he explained, speaking as if this was a casual, normal thing.

Inside, the hero couldn't shake the voice that nagged him, telling him and reminding him that this was indirectly his fault then. Of course, it was only natural now. If people wanted to get to him, the first thing they would do would go after those that knew him personally. Still, he didn't allow his features to so much as twitch from their usual expression. There was no way in hell he would let someone like this know just how much this was getting under his skin. "So, like many others, you were just a coward to come straight to me," he summed up, taking those hits, balling them up, and tossing them right back.

"I prefer strategic," the villain corrected. "But, now that you're here, I wouldn't mind taking you on," he said, a sly tilt to his lips as the words sank out.

Toshinori's gaze narrowed at the proposition, and to say he was surprised would be a lie, but still, it was odd that someone of this man's caliber would be requesting such a thing. "Is that so?" he asked, making sure to crack his knuckles audibly in the hopes that his willingness to partake so quickly would cause for some reconsideration. However, the actions only made him chuckle in excitement.

"Come on then, show me one of your famous punches then," he egged on, lifting a hand to gesture the man forward. At a loss of what else to do, All Might thought to just give him what he wanted. If he wanted a fight, then so be it. In fact, he would be more than happy to oblige. Inhaling deeply, the blond tightened his fist and went to draw it back, and he waited not a single second before bringing it straight towards the man's face. As it approached, only an inch from that smug expression, he froze, his heart thrumming dangerously against his ribs as he watched the other raise his hands and press his thumb and index finger together...getting ready to snap them...

"That's how you want to play this," Toshinori sighed out, his jaw tightening. "You really are a coward then." Stomping out his own pride, he slowly lowered his fist, and as he did so, as did Caustic's own hand.

But, in a flash, the sickly man raised his fist up and struck the hero across his cheek, leaving a steaming trail in its wake. He had to admit, even thought he would have been able to dodge that, he did not expect him to move quite that fast. "You have no idea how good that felt," he gleamed, looking from his fist to the damage done to the blond's features. He didn't hesitate before striking the other side, and then the first side again; each hit bringing forth more burning and searing. But, with the threat on hand, he dared not return the punches.

This was not unnoticed by Mic, who was conflicted on whether or not he should help All Might or focus on handling the bomb, of which he had no idea how to deal with. "Shit," he muttered under his breath, his brows furrowed his the internal debate dragged on. Then, it struck him, it should have been so obvious. It was a risk, a damn huge one at that, but as far as he could tell, it was the best bet they had. The villain had said it only took a snap of his fingers to give the signal, which meant they had to be close. Though, their location was still a mystery; they had yet to see another person down here.

Still, it was all he had. "I'm sorry ahead of time," he mumbled towards his friend as he fished around in his pocket and procured a pair of ear plugs. He made sure to carry some on him just to be safe. Gently, he slipped them in the other's ears and glanced around real quick before positioning himself over Aizawa, ready to block his body from any crumbling debris should it be needed. Closing his eyes and praying for the best, he took a deep breath, the deepest he could take.

The moment his lungs were at full capacity, he released it all at once, for the first time in his life, not holding anything back. If the others were affected by it, he didn't pay any attention: He only had one goal in mind. And, as soon as his voice cut off, his ears picked up on what he was looking for; that telltale whimper that came from behind him. 'So, you're there, huh?' he thought to himself, looking over his shoulder to see nothing but a wall.

"What did I say about that tone of yours!?" Caustic demanded, his right hand rising in an instant as he readied himself to give the signal. All Might didn't know if it was out of instinct or not, but his first reaction was to grip the man's wrist and give it a harsh twist. The snap that sounded out was only overshadowed by the cry of pain that followed. However, the hero didn't have the time to appreciate just how satisfying that was before he swiftly grabbed a hold of the man's other wrist. He knew he was getting rash, impatient even, but his body was aching, begging him to get this over with. Even now, the strain he was putting on it was almost too much.

Taking advantage of the time he was given, Hizashi rushed over to the wall and cupped his hands against it before letting out another yell. If the bomb got in there the way he thought it did, then he had no doubt this person was actually inside the wall, hidden from sight but still able to hear what was going on. Again, that sound of discomfort reached him again; it was only a matter of time before it became too much, before they had no choice but to either come out or pass out from the intensity of it. But, until either of those things happened, he wasn't going to let up; he'd do this until his voice was gone if he had to. All the while, he still kept his attention divided enough to keep an eye on Aizawa, making sure he wasn't causing further harm to come his way.

Surprisingly, they were able to hold up longer than he had expected, but they were still human, and it was just a matter of time before it became too much. To his relief, he caught that stumble, that falter in concentration that caused them to drop their quirk just enough. Even then, he didn't cease his yelling as he grabbed hold of the hand poking through and yanked them through to the other side. Not a second later, he had her pinned to the ground, his right hand instantly pried the switch from her grasp and he slid it out of reach.

"Found you," he panted, out of breath. Out of the corner of his eye, he could plainly see the steady and thin stream of crimson leaking from one of her ears. "Now," he growled, leaning in close until his breath brushed by her other ear, "you're going to remove that bomb, or you can say goodbye to your hearing." His threat was made clear as it rung in her good ear.

Nervously, Houdini glanced in the direction of their leader and then flicked her focus back to the hero. For a moment, she hesitated, her alliance with the man clearly not at all that strong. But, with the blond's mouth so close to her, and after the earlier taste she received, to her it was a pretty easy choice. "A-Alright," she mumbled, voice slightly shaky. "But, you hafta let me up," she said with a crooked smirk.

With a low grunt, he reluctantly obliged, and as soon as he removed himself, he scooped the switch back up, making sure she never got the chance to get her hands on it again. "I swear, if you try _anything_ funny, I don't even care if you need to scratch your ass, you try _anything_ and I will not hesitate to bring this whole place down right on top of you," he warned, his gaze burning targets through the woman.

"Calm down, will ya!" she snapped back, cutting her eyes at him as she sauntered forward, her shoulders slumped with her sulking demeanor. For someone who had one of her senses on the line, she was sure taking her sweet time.

"MOVE IT!" he demanded, stepping to stand behind her, never allowing her to get more than a couple feet away from him. "For every second this takes, it's another second I'm screaming straight into your ears, you understand me?" With one hand, he gave her a solid shove, causing her to stumble forward and fall to her hands and knees. "Get the hell up and get it out of him!"

At that, she whipped her hand around. "I would if ya'd quick pushin' me around!"

All Might, so absorbed in the happenings in the two of them, that he jolted and let out a hiss of pain as that burning sensation ran down his arm. As a natural reaction, he instantly swung out with his other hand, the 'crunch' that sounded out signifying the success of the hit before the man crumpled to the ground. As it turned out, without his dirty tricks, there wasn't much bite to his bark. Once the man was down, Toshinori inspected his wrist and forearm, and there was definitely some considerable burns along them, but it was nothing to complain much about, not when he was considering what Aizawa had to have gone through.

Speaking of, he looked back over, and his brows rose as he witnessed the female villain reach her hand into the man's side. "If you touch anything that's not that bomb…" Mic went on, now crouching behind her, his chin almost resting on her left shoulder. His breath tickled down the side of her neck, and her annoyance was clear by the way she jerked her head to the side.

"I got it," she mumbled, spitefully. And, Hizashi watched on in morbid fascination as the small device was carefully and slowly extracted from the man's side. She placed it to the side, and not even a millisecond after it was out of her hold, all she needed to hear was that deep inhale, not giving her a chance before that same cry as before blared in her ear, this time, her own wails of agony joined in as more blood spilled from her ears, both her hands clapped over them. And, this time, there was no stopping until she passed out from it. "You fucking liar!" she cried out, her voice lost. She tried to curl in on herself as much as she could, but it was no use, the volume still reached her. It wasn't much longer, which seemed like an eternity to her, until she couldn't handle it anymore, and her body listed to the side.

Once all was said and done, the hero was left panting for breaths, his lungs were on fire and his throat throbbed with the after effects, but he cared not, it wasn't important. Carelessly, he nudged her unconscious body out of the way, making sure not to bump the explosive in the process. Since it hadn't went off yet from all that was going on, he was starting to question whether or not it was really a concern to begin with. Either way, it wasn't worth the risk.

"Ai...Eraser," he muttered, a bit of gruffness to his tone. He cleared his throat and tried again, one hand cupping the man's face to tilt it in his direction. "Hey," he said with a soft tap. 'Oh,' he thought to himself as the orange and spongy objects caught his eye. Gently, he removed the ear plugs and cast them aside. And, this time when he called out to the man, there was a soft, but definite, whine that passed his barely parted lips.

The first thing he did was draw in a sharp breath, and the second thing he did was jerk his head away from the touch. His whole body was trembling, whether from pain or fear, it was not known, but it was an uncommon sight to witness. "It's alright," All Might assured, strolling over to kneel next to them, "we're here, and we've got you." As he spoke, he again did as before, but this time around, Aizawa wasn't quite as complacent. Immediately, the dark haired man tried to fight against him, his breaths quickened and a series of whimpers and pleas sounded out. "Go get Midnight," he ordered, "if he keeps this up, he's going to just hurt himself even more.

"Right," Hizashi obeyed, the sight of his friend suffering causing bile to rise; he couldn't stand it. Without wasting a second more, he scrambled to his feet and made haste in going back up stairs. Most of what happened was a blur, his body acted on its own as he seeked out the woman, calling her out by name as he went. He barely got out the warehouse before he ran straight into someone, and once he got over the initial surprise of it, he quickly recognized the woman.

"What is it?" she asked, her voice pitched with worry. "Is everything alright, it was taking forever and then I heard you," she went on, waving her hand about.

Mic took a few deep breaths to compose himself. "It's Eraser," he breathed out, "I hate to ask this, but we need you to knock him out. He's not in his right mind, he doesn't recognize us." he went on, words growing thinner as the recounts hurt him to reveal. But, that was all he needed to say, it was enough for her to understand the situation well enough. "Just, hurry," he almost begged, not caring how much of his dignity was dwindling away with the plea. She was already off before the last syllable could leave his mouth.

He let out a quaking breath, and it wasn't until then he really felt the soreness in his throat. He hadn't been aware how much strain he had really put on it; it absolutely burned. However, the important thing was, Aizawa was back, he was safe...everything would be fine now. Yet, even then, he couldn't allow himself to relax, not when the sight of the man's condition haunted his mind. His eyes…

Blowing out a weighty breath, Mic lowered his gaze and sprinted after the woman, not wanting Aizawa to be out of his sight more than he had to be. To his relief, as he bolted back down those stairs and saw the other man again, he was held closely in the lady hero's embrace, his struggles diminished as his form was again limp. He let out a soft breath, but he knew deep down that it wasn't really over, not yet.

"I'll go get the paramedics and police down here now," she said, cautiously moving Eraser from her lap back to the ground with the help of All Might.

As she vanished from sight, Hizashi was swift to take her place next to Aizawa, and a numb hand trailed through his locks as he allowed all the events to finally lift from him. Though the heaviest of the weights were gone, the ones that remained served as shackles fastened around his heart. His hand reached back down, the thumb stroking to the side until it made contact with the soiled blindfold, and he wished so damn hard that he could just rid him of that obstruction. "I'm so sorry," he whispered, his touch trailing to brush some of the strays strands of black from the man's face.

In the back of his head, he could make out voices as they drew closer, rushed footsteps, orders being barked. But, it wasn't until hands touched upon him that he was snapped out of his reverie. "Sir, you need to step aside," one of the medics instructed, skipping all pleasantries in his urgency.

"Y-Yeah," Hizashi stammered, still in a daze. He shakily rose to his feet and took a step back; his chest ached as he watched the man get to work, checking Aizawa's pulse, checking over him for other injuries, everything. He never thought it could hurt so much to have to watch something like this. Still, orders were given and more people soon joined the fray. Why were there so many of them? Why did the need so many medics on the scene? It was just one guy. He wanted to ask what was going on, what was wrong, but he couldn't move, he couldn't budge an inch.

"Hizashi," All Might muttered, now standing behind the man. "We should give him some space, let them do their job," he suggested, one hand on his back as he gave a light push to lead him away. As the walked, as they went back up the stairs, he craned his neck as far as it would allow to keep an eye on his friend. That stare never broke away until it was cut off as they reached the top. "I think you should take a seat," he number one suggested, not waiting for a response before slowly lowering the man down.

He was hardly aware of what he was doing, but as he sat down his head went straight into his hands as he drew in air sharply. "What the hell is happening?" he asked quietly...rhetorically. "There's something wrong, is there? There something wrong with him. There wouldn't be so many damn paramedics otherwise."

"You know how they are," Toshinori replied, his tone light. "I'm sure they're just being cautious, given the circumstances.

"What hospital are they taking him to?" he asked a beat later, disregarding the previous reassurance. "Which one?" he asked again when his question wasn't answered long enough.

The other man let out a sympathetic sigh, there was no talking to the man right now, it merely wasn't possible. "I would assume the closest one," he responded, turning his attention to look straight. "If you're thinking of going now, you shouldn't bother. Even if you do, it would be a while before they'd tell you anything."

"I don't care, I want to be there the moment they do," he muttered, going to push himself back to his feet.

For about the fiftieth time that day, the other grabbed a hold of his arm. "Hold up. I think it's better if you collect your thoughts for now; you're getting too worked up," he tried to be reasonable, but Hizashi yanked his arm away, clearly not soaking any of his words up. All Might then looked to his features, his appearance so much more rough than it had been earlier. "Like I said, it will be a while before we know anything, so, maybe you should just go home, get a few hours of sleep. You look almost as bad as he does."

"Yeah, and you need to get those burns looked at, but I don't see you heeding your own advice," Mic shot back. "Don't preach to me if you're not going to do the same," he scoffed, this time getting up without interference. "I'll be at the hospital if you need anything," he called back, not leaving this up for further discussion.

Toshinori simply let him go this time, he gave it his best. What he chose to do from here on out would be of his own accord. He was absolutely exhausted though, and there was no way he'd be able to keep this form up for too much longer. Scratching the back of his neck, he figured maybe he should make a quick trip to Recovery Girl and let her do her thing, the bare minimum, and he'd most likely follow the other's examples. If Hizashi was right about anything, this was sure it. Who was he to lecture one's health when he neglected his own. With a grunt and a hiss, he pushed himself to his feet, his own wounds stinging more fiercely now that the adrenaline and the thrill of the fight was over.

As he straightened up, out of the corner of his eye, he watched as the paramedics finally made their way up, stretcher between two of them. The man had to close his eyes before he allowed himself to stare for too long. This was the result, the result of his status. This was all because of him...

* * *

The wait was killing him; it had only been a couple hours, but it was two hours too long, and what could they possibly be doing that would take them this long? All Hizashi was told was that some surgery was required...but they said nothing beyond that, leaving the implications up to his imagination. No matter how much he dwelled on it, he could not think of anything more cruel than leaving him ignorant to the situation. His hands remained clasped between his knees as he leaned forward in thought; he just wished they'd hurry the hell up already and tell him something, _anything._

He cleared his throat, the raspiness of it grating uncomfortably; maybe, just maybe he overdid it a little bit. But, he didn't regret it for a single instant. And, he'd do it all again if he had to; if it meant saving Aizawa, then every bit of his own pain was worth it. Taking a shuddery breath in, he was almost jolted from his seat when a cup was held out in front of him.

"Take it," Toshinori instructed, nodding to the steaming beverage. "It's tea, it should, uh, help," he explained, averting his gaze. Looking the hero over, Hizashi could still see the marks from the burns, but they appeared to be mostly okay now; mostly minor wounds. His wrist, however, was wrapped up; he assumed those to be quite a bit worse than the ones on his face. "Have you been here the whole time?" he asked, taking a seat next to him once he accepted the offered drink.

Mic muttered his small thanks of appreciation and took the tea, giving the sweet aroma a quick sniff before taking a hesitant sip. He was pleased to say that the warmth of it did feel rather pleasant going down. However, he now gazed down at its contents, watching as his hued reflection wavered with the shaking of his hands. What the hell was wrong with him? He couldn't even allow himself a moment of celebration; they had Aizawa back, and he was likely to live through all this, and yet… He let out a heavy breath and closed his eyes, unable to stand looking at that sorry ass expression for a second longer.

"You know you can't beat yourself up over this," Toshinori muttered, pretty sure none of this was going to get through to the man, but he couldn't merely sit by and let him sulk. He was too stubborn for that; it was a blessing and a curse.

"I'm not," Hizashi replied. "I know there was nothing more that could have been done, and I'm not blaming anyone. The only ones at fault are those bastards that took him. But, it doesn't matter...they're caught now." He let out another sigh, imagining if it would have been better if he had gone further back there, if he had actually taken their lives like he desperately wanted to. No, even then, he doubted he would have been satisfied. It would have solved the problem temporarily, but the moment it was over, it's most likely be even worse. "They're in custody, and they can never hurt others again. We did our job, and that's the best we can do, right?"

The other finally leaned back and folded his arms over his chest. "Yeah, exactly," he breathed out. "That's all we can do. We can't stop things from happening, but we can prevent them from happening again. No matter what...there has to be a victim," he concluded, his tone dark, shameful almost.

Just as Mic opened his mouth to speak, a light, cautious pair of footfalls beckoned for his attention, and he glanced up as a doctor strolled up. All it took was one look at the man's expression for their hearts to drop and their chests to clench. "Aizawa?" he questioned, looking to the both of them with a weighted tone. They nodded, unable to find their voices just yet. Hizashi's pulse was ringing in his ears, and he was convinced his heart would stop at the drop of a pin. "I'm pleased to say that he made it out of surgery and is currently in recovery…" he let that hang in the air for a moment, letting the men soak in the good news.

"But?" Mic questioned, knowing full well there was more to it. His eyes rested on the doctor, silently pleading with him to go on.

Again, the dark-haired man inhaled deeply. "Come back with me," he instructed with a glance around the waiting room, "I think it's best I give the details in private."


	6. A Familiar Voice

**Beta read by: SinikkavonWolperting and DragonRiderSayomi**

 **I do have another song to suggest for this one. And, that song is, "Earth" by "Sleeping at Last"**

 **Anyway, this is a pretty slow chapter, but I hope I get the tears I desire. XD**

* * *

 **Guest : Of course I am, how else am I supposed to make sure people come back? XD And, obviously, the next chapter is here, here and ready for reading. :D There isn't exactly good news, but hope it's still satisfying nonetheless. XD**

 **inFamousSlyMonkey : I know I've seen some of the movies, they just all kinda blur together for me, so I don't even know which ones I have and haven't seen anymore. lol I know for a fact that I haven't seen the animated ones though.**

 **He was referring to his voice for that one, may have roughed his throat up a bit during all that. XD And Golem... Uh, yeah, don't worry about him. ;D Just, don't think about him, everything is all good. lmao.**

* * *

Hizashi stood there, frozen in place as he stood before the wooden door; his gaze hovering just over the name labeled to the side: Aizawa, Shota. He took a deep breath and held it for a few seconds, allowing the inhale to rest in his lungs until his head began to swim. And, he didn't release it until a reassuring and firm hand fell on his left shoulder. The blond cut his eyes over to peer into the deep stare of Toshinori, who in turn offered the man a small nod of encouragement. Blowing out slowly, the hero finally raised a hand and placed it around the metal; his fingers numbed as they wrapped around the cool metal. His heart echoing in his ears, he built up the courage and mental strength to push the door open, but he hesitated, pausing when it was but just a sliver.

"What's wron-" All Might went to ask, but the other was quick to answer, never giving the question that chance to fully escape.

"Nothing," he muttered, a bit more bite in the word than he intended. He huffed out one more wavering exhale and eased the door the rest of the way, careful not to make too much noise. Though, he was positive they had the man on enough drugs to keep him out through the apocalypse, he still made sure to keep his steps light and precise.

He only made it a few feet until he ceased once more, this time for an entirely different reason as he looked his friend over...unmoving as he lied there. Thick gauze hid his eyes from view and his chest rose and fell peacefully. Despite what the man went through, the way he appeared now, it was as though all was right. But, Hizashi's hands clenched at his sides and his jaw tightened as the doctor's words rang in his head.

" _As I've said, and this is the most important part, but he will recover, with due time, of course." Hizashi sat there, foot tapping uneasily as the doctor spoke, and he clung to each word like his life depended on them. "However," he continued, removing his glasses to set them aside as he runned the bridge of his nose, "it's about his eyes."_

 _That's all he needed to say, all the hero needed to hear for his soul to be squeezed of every ounce of hope it retained. "And?" he pressed, his fingers clutching the fabric of his pants, his nails dragging across the material. "T-They'll get better, right? They can be fixed, can't they?" he questioned, getting to his feet without warning, voice growing louder. "You're going to tell me that it's not permanen-"_

" _Hizashi," Toshinori cut him off, the name weighed down the the number one hero's own distraught. "That's enough," he added, averting his own gaze, dropping his sunken orbs to stare at the floor._

 _The other blond only stood there, unable to utter another word as, he too, looked away and lowered himself back down. "What else?" he asked, the question flat, clear that he was barely paying attention anymore_

 _The doctor took a deep breath and lowered his hand back to his desk to intertwine with the other. "That was the most serious," he replied, in hopes to ease their troubles, but it was obvious it was already too late for that. "Other than a couple dislocations, some fractured ribs and some third degree burns, the next highest concern was the internal bleeding. But, that also wasn't that serious, it was nothing more than a minor knick," he assured, but one glance up and he could easily make out the furrow in Hizashi's brow._

He could almost remember that conversation word for word, and his brain never ceased its repetition of them since he first heard them. And, until now, until he could finally see Aizawa, his friend, in the state he was now, he wanted to chalk that whole talk up as nothing but a nightmare. Breaking from his momentary transfixion, the blond carried himself closer, the fluttering in his chest making him nauseous as he stepped over the last few inches.

His exhale brought with it a small and choked noise as his nearest hand moved of it own volition, his unfeeling and quivering touch brushing over the other's own hand as it rested at his side. He was careful of his injured wrist though, gentle enough not to disturb anything.

"I'm going to go fill the others in," Toshinori informed, his underlying intention tangible. In other words, 'I'm going to give you a moment.'

Hizashi just nodded, not bothering to look away from the bandages hiding Aizawa's eyes, unable to. In the back of his mind, he was aware of the other hero making his exit, but somehow, it never truly registered. His free hand drifted towards his own face where it grabbed his shades and pulled them away. Folding them over his collar, he reached over to pull one of the chairs closer and slowly lowered himself into it with every intent on staying right there for as long as he were able.

His grip tightened around that chilled hand as he drew in another sharp breath, the action hitching as he prepared to speak. "Shota…" he whispered, not caring how ridiculous it would have looked for him to be talking to an unconscious man, "...I-I'm so sorry," he bit out, bowing his head, finding it difficult to face him like this. "Things...things will be rough for a while, for quite a while. But, I know...I really know that you'll be able to get through it. You got through all that…" he paused to suck in another breath, the air rattling as it entered his lungs. "And, you won't be alone in this...alright?" he asked, his voice tightening as the last words were strangled from his throat. The back of his free hand raised to press against his eyes. But, it was too late, the warm streaks were already trailing down his cheeks.

Even though he wanted to do nothing more than to hide, he forced himself to raise his head once more and brought his attention back to Aizawa's face. Through blurred vision, he kept his gaze straight to where the other's should have been. "I promise...I'll be with you...every step of the way."

* * *

Toshinori's mouth tightened as he caught snippets of the other man's ramblings; and, it was not his intention to eavesdrop, but he couldn't bring himself to walk away when the man was in there grieving, pouring his heart out. With a sad shake of his head, he finally started to saunter away, his head dipped as he traveled down the hall, each step bounced off the pristine walls. The farther he got, the easier it was for him to push his thoughts in other directions, and eventually his mind wandered towards the kid...to Midoriya. He still hadn't told him anything...he wondered if he had even heard anything from anyone yet. He would sooner or later, and he hoped no one told him anything yet. If he was going to hear the news, it would have to be from him.

Either way, he didn't look forward to it; he had promised to let the young hero know the moment he had any news, and here he was, the whole ordeal over, and he hadn't so much as let him know that they knew where Aizawa had been taken. Swallowing the growing lump in his throat, he procured his phone from his pocket and brought the contact up before typing out a swift message: "Going for a walk, I want you to join in," he typed, keeping things vague; he figured it would be better that way.

Taking a calming breath, he put the device back away and picked up his pace. He knew that the moment Midoriya got that message, he would not hesitate in making his way over, it was just the way he was. As frustrating as it could be in moments like these, it was something to be admired in the guy.

With that in mind, the blond straightened up and fell into a leisurely pace. Luckily, the park wasn't that far from the hospital, not enough to warrant getting a taxi anyway. He should be able to reach it within the next thirty minutes or so. That is, as long as he didn't stop or get distracted.

And, just as he thought, not a moment too late, he walked into the park, stopping at their usual meet-up. From the looks of it, he got there first. Glancing around, he didn't see the other anywhere yet, which was a blessing in a way. This at least gave him a bit more time to think about what he was going to say and how he was going to say it. No matter how many times he ran it through his head, or how many scenarios he imagined, there was never an ideal outcome to this. 'I'm sure you'll understand," he thought, bowing his head as he dropped onto the closest bench in defeat.

He ran both hands through his hair, inwardly cringing at the griminess of the locks; he never quite got the chance to wash it. His fingers gripped and ruffled the strands a bit before he pulled them back away. Why was this so tough? This should have been the last worry on his mind, and yet, this was proving to be the most stressful by far. As his fingers teased the ends of the strands, the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end at the sound of small and light steps approaching.

"Young Midoriya," he greeted, raising his head to meet the other's deep and curious, albeit apprehensive, gaze. "Thanks for coming on such short notice," he said standing up. Then his eyes wandered to the sun. "And so early on top of that," he added, scratching the back of his neck.

"Is it about Aizawa-sensei?" he asked, cutting right to the chase, and his eyes lit up with hope. "Did you hear anything? I mean, that's the only reason I can think of for calling me out here," he muttered, glancing down in thought.

The man's silence was all that was needed to put the boy on edge, and his eyes widened in fear. "Please, take a seat," he instructed, his normally light-hearted tone weighed down with seriousness. Toshinori took a deep breath as the other sat next to him, and he kept his attention downward, too ashamed to look the kid in the eyes; not after lying to him and keeping him out of the loop like he did. "I guess I should tell you...we found him," he breathed out, what should have been good news coming out with a surge of pain.

"You...found him?" Izuku repeated. And the next part was a surprise to the other. "I-Is he alright?" he asked, skipping all the other questions that had to be on his mind, but this was the one that was bugging him the most. "All Might?" he asked when the man fell into an eerie silence. "Did you hear me?"

The blond jolted slightly and looked to the boy, blinking quickly a couple of times. "Oh, yeah, I heard you," he assured. But, he still struggled to form words beyond that. "About Aizawa...it...it was pretty bad when we found him, he was in a poor state. Still is, actually," he added, sadly. "Young Midoriya...I don't know how to tell you this, but that man's not going to be the same after this."

"What happened?" Izuku demanded, his own voice starting to quiver the slightest amount.

Clearing his throat, Toshinori again looked the other in the eyes. "Well, how should I put this?" he wondered, his limbs growing cold as the moment grew closer. "Aizawa...he's lost his quirk," he started, trying to keep it a bit lighter, but he knew that wasn't good enough. "More specifically, he's lost his sight," he breathed out, feeling the crushing weight lift from his chest. That was it though, it was out there, and he waited for the reaction, tried to mentally prepare himself, despite knowing he'd never be ready enough.

"W-What?" the boy stuttered, his features paling. "He's...blind?" he asked, his voice a ghost of a whisper, almost lost in the gentle morning breeze. "What do you mean? Can't... Can't Recovery Girl heal him?" he blurted out in desperation

But, All Might merely shook his head. "I'm sorry, but it's not that easy, not this time; she's not a miracle worker…" he muttered, unable to burn the sight of Eraser in that room, crimson decorating his face; he shuddered at the memory and raised a hand to grip the back of his neck. "His eyes were damaged beyond repair, there is no saving them." And there it was, the silence he was expecting, the loss for words, the confusion, the sorrow, the anger. All of them flashed across the kid's features at the same time. "Before you start beating yourself up over it too, I'm going to tell you the same thing I told Mic: There was nothing anyone could have done about this. No one could have seen this coming, and no one could have prevented it. It sucks, and it hurts, but it's the truth."

Midoriya still said nothing, but his shoulders did relax just a bit. "But, other than that...he'll be alright?" he asked, trying his damnedest to focus on the positives, not that there was much to look at.

"Yeah...he'll be fine," he replied, lowly. "Also, about that promise I made. I'm sorry that I had to keep you in the dark, but it was necessary. I'm sure you understand. Last night, as soon as you left, I got a call. I didn't tell you about it because I didn't want you to get involved, and I didn't want you to see him...like that," he explained, waiting for the backlash that was sure to come.

"It's alright," he answered, calmly and genuinely. "As long as he's safe and will be alright, then it doesn't matter. That was what was important, right?" he shrugged, forcing a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Thanks for telling me in person though."

Toshinori returned the expression. "Don't mention it."

"So, when are they allowing visitors?" he asked, the question, 'When can I go see him?' hiding in the question's shadow.

The hero thought for a moment. "I have no idea, Aizawa hasn't even woken up yet, and they are only allowing a select few in there at the moment until then. Even so, considering what he went through, it's hard to say," he answered honestly. Then, inhaling deeply through his nose, the blond pushed himself up to his feet with a groan and a stretch. "Anyway, I should get going, I need to tell the others the news," he informed, his tone dropping back to its melancholy state. "And, please, refrain from telling the other students if you can. I know they're just as worried, but I don't think now is the best time to tell them."

Midoriya clearly wasn't thrilled about that; how was he supposed to look the others in the eyes knowing what he knew, knowing they were going to be wondering what was going on, and not say anything about it. Nonetheless, he nodded. "Don't worry, I won't say a word," he promised, getting up as well.

"You're a good kid, you know that?" he muttered with a small wave. "Take care, I'll try to keep you filled in the best I can, but don't take it the wrong way if it takes some time," the hero said. He got another nod in response, and he didn't stick around any longer to see of there was anything else.

That was only one part of this out of the way. It was the hardest part for him, but now he would have to repeat all that again to the others as well as give a full report...down to the last detail. Him and Kayama both had agreed to do that, both coming to the conclusion that it was best to spare Hizashi of reliving those moments. He was already going through enough, that and it was best for him to stay by Aizawa's side. The man would need something familiar there for him when he came to. He glanced in the direction of the hospital, wanting to just go back there, but there were other matters he had to attend to first. But, the moment he was done with all that, he would be coming right back.

* * *

A few hours had gone by, and Hizashi still hadn't moved from his spot, he hardly allowed himself to twitch as his thumb ran small circles on the back of the other's hand. He wasn't sure why he was doing this, he chalked it up as a comfort mechanism, a reassurance to himself that Shota was really still there, that this was real. A few nurses had come and gone, luckily respectful enough to stay quiet, do their job, and get out without any disturbance.

It felt like an eternity though; he knew it might be some time before he showed any signs of waking up, but he had hoped, grasped at whatever straws he could, that maybe a miracle would happen. "Whenever you're ready," he mumbled, leaning back as he waited. But, of course, there was no reaction, not that he had really expected one. It would have been nice though. The blond took a deep breath and leaned back forward, his elbow on his knee and his head resting in his hand. Given any other circumstance, he was sure he'd be able to fall asleep on the spot, and damn was he exhausted. Yawning, he let his eyes slide shut, only to jolt back upright when the door squeaked back open; and he knew it couldn't be another staff member, one had just left a few minutes ago.

"Any changes?" Nemuri asked, carefully making her way in, practically tip-toeing over the threshold. He never turned to face her, but the slight sag of his shoulders and the heavy sigh he released gave the answer she already knew. Exhaling as well, she strolled closer, pulling the door closed behind her. "Have you gotten any sleep?" she asked in concern when she was able to make out his drawn features. If she were being honest, the man looked like shit.

"Not yet," he replied flatly, lifting his head up to run his hand over it. "I'm fine though," he added, finally taking his other hand away, the fact that someone else was there now making it a tad awkward for him to hold that position. "Could use some coffee though," he said with a clear of his throat. The tea had helped a little, but it was still rather raw. "You mind, uh, taking over while I go get some?" he asked, the notion of leaving Aizawa's side obviously bothering him. But, he hoped a breath of fresh air would serve to calm him down a bit more.

She offered him a warm and soft smile. "Of course, take your time," she said, instantly taking his spot the moment he was up. "Oh, and get me some while your at it will you? Just spent hours at the station, need something after that," she said with a small flick of her wrist.

"Yeah," he nodded before forcing himself to head towards the exit. "Be back in a few," he called over his shoulder, finally managing to step over to the other side. The moment he was out, he instantly felt lighter, breathing was easier, and his mind was at least cleared of its thick and suffocating fog. He rolled his head from side to side, working out the kinks; he hadn't realized just how stiff his muscles were until he stepped out and had the chance to stretch them a bit more.

The going was slow, but he gradually made his way to one of the various waiting rooms, one where he knew had a coffee machine. He had a feeling that thing would be his best friend for a while. His hands were still a little clumsy and it took him a couple tries to get the first cup situated correctly in place; the simple action swiftly frustrated him and he grit his teeth in frustration. "Come on you piece of…" he grumbled to himself. With the first cup now filling up, his eyes twitched to the side at the sound of some commotion going on outside. At first, he tried to ignore the small dispute, but as it went on, his curiosity and irritation were piquing.

As he looked back again, more interested in the happenings this time, he caught sight of the cameras, the news van, and the reporters. It didn't take much after that for his blood to boil. Were they serious? It hadn't even been 24 hours and the damn parasites were already trying to suck the life out of their next story. Staring, he hissed in pain and yanked his hand away as some of the scalding liquid spilled over in his distraction. "Son of a bitch," he growled out, flinging his hand to rid it of the stings. Even so, his narrowed gaze darted back to the spectacle outside, his anger flaring at the mere sight of it. Honestly, these people had no shame.

He thought about leaving them as they were, there was no way they would be allowed in anyway, and they weren't hurting anyone as they were. But, that wasn't the point. It was the fact that they had the audacity to try and cover this so soon after such a tragic incident, not a care in the world for privacy. He wasn't sure what came over him, but he was walking before he could think, his steps heavy and impatient. Then, to make matters worse, the moment he was out the door, he was practically surrounded, three microphones thrust in front in his face at once without warning.

"What can you tell us about the hostage situation?" One of the women asked, followed immediately by a man questioning, "What's the current condition of Eraserhead?" "What is your take on the happenings, and do you think this will be a thing to worry about more in the future?" They filtered out one after another, never allowing the man to get a breath before the next inquiry was thrown his way. His knuckles cracked as his fists tightened, and his teeth grit together, threatening to break from bearing down so hard.

"All of you…" he muttered, the sound of his voice succeeding and getting a few of them to quiet down to better hear him. He snatched the one of the microphones from one of their hands before taking a deep breath and yelling straight into it, "GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!" he shouted a second before thrusting the device to the ground and slamming a foot down on it, effectively snapping it. At that, they all fell dead quiet, eyes wide and all of them hesitant on saying anymore. Hizashi took a few deep breaths of his own before looking from one shocked expression to the next. "Well?" he questioned, tossing both arms in the air, "What the hell are you waiting for, go away already. There isn't a damn thing here for you."

His heart was banging against his ribs as he allowed his emotions to get out of control, but he didn't care, he just wanted every last one of them gone, out of sight and as far from this place as possible. He stood there, unmoving until one by one, most of them sauntered away, mumbled to themselves in annoyance and disappointment. As the numbers thinned, his pulse slowed down, and he felt more tired than ever. Maybe the others were right, maybe it wouldn't hurt him to take a nap or something; but, what if Aizawa woke up during that time and he wasn't there.

As he debated all this internally, he glanced up as someone approached him, and he looked down to see Recovery Girl herself standing before him. "That was quite the spectacle," she commented, looking back at the retreating reporters and cameramen.

Hizashi looked away with a degree of shame. "Yeah, well, they were getting on my nerves; don't they have anything better to do?" he rhetorically asked, folding his arms over his chest.

The elderly woman just smiled back at him, understanding where he was coming from, even if she didn't completely agree with the rashness of it. "Is anyone else here?" she asked, walking by him, beckoning him to follow.

"Uh, just me and Nemuri," he replied, keeping his attention lowered. "Toshinori was here earlier, but he had something else he needed to do," he filled in. "I take it you've heard...the news?" he asked, the words hard and sharp. He caught the soft and sorrowful hum as her answer. "I'm guessing you're here to take care of the other things then," he assumed, seeing no other reason for her to be here so soon. He was sure she was worried as well, as they all were, but he didn't see her as one for casual visits in places like this.

"I'm going to do all I can," she replied. He just nodded in acknowledgement before breaking away to go back towards the coffee machine.

Picking up where he left off, he cocked his head towards the hall. "It's room 503," he informed, unsure if she had already known that or not. "I'll be there shortly." He watched the woman until she was gone from view, and only then did he allow himself to relax as he finished getting the hot beverages; this time without incident. With both cups in hand, he slowly, carefully, worked his way back. By the time he stepped in, Recovery Girl had already done her small session and was seated in one of the chairs by the window. Setting Nemuri's cup next to her, he went to take the other seat, only to be stopped by the woman herself.

"You want this spot back?" she asked, preparing to get up the second he answered.

'Yes,' he thought to himself, the reply itching on the tip of his tongue and ready to be flicked off. But, he bit the answer back. "Nah, you can stay there," he said instead, catching her off guard. "I think I'm going to catch some sleep," he sighed, continuing towards the empty seat. It probably wouldn't be the most comfortable, but there was no way he was going to go back home to get some rest when he could just do it here. He dropped himself in the chair and instantly sank into it, letting it's hold pull him in into a welcoming embrace.

Chiyo glanced over and smiled in amusement, they all knew he needed this; however, she would have prefered if he were to do so in an actual bed. There was no way that was comfortable, but at least he was finally getting some rest, and she wasn't going to complain about that. "I'll be sure to wake you if there's any changes," she promised, getting a thankful nod from the man before he curled up as much as the furniture would allow and closed his eyes. It was surprisingly comfy all things considered, and before he knew it, he was nodding off.

For a while, he merely drifted in and out, unable to fully anchor himself into the slumbering world for a while. It definitely wasn't due to him not wanting to sleep, but his mind kept going back to that basement, to that picture, to the moment he heard that devastating news. None of them would leave him be. But, eventually, and with some effort, he was able to finally get some shuteye, albeit restless and filled with trouble. However, amidst it the hazy and grueling thoughts were flashes and visits from more desirable memories.

" _Shota!" he called, waving his hand in the air enthusiastically as he approached the dark haired boy._

 _The other sighed heavily in response, but he still gave the blond his attention, a muttered, "Stop calling me that," under his breath. Still, his dark gaze met the birghter one as he awaited the ramblings he was sure would soon follow._

 _Hizashi didn't miss a beat before a flyer was raised and nearly shoved in the other's face, eliciting him to take a voluntary step back. "Have you seen this?" he asked, shaking the paper excitedly._

" _How can I when you're wringing the life out of it?" Shota replied, practically snatching it from the tight hold. He held it between his hands and allowed his gaze to scan over the words, and he felt something twitch at the single word 'concert.' His eyes darted back up to see the unwavering and delighted expression upon the other's features._

" _What d'ya say?" he questioned, looking from the flyer to his friend. "They'll be in town next week, and I remember you said you've never been to a concert before. So, I figured why not?" he shrugged, obviously proud of himself. Seeing Shota about to protest, he raised a hand, already knowing what was coming. "If it's money you're worried about, not to worry, it's on me," he assured with a thumbs up. It was subtle, but it was definitely there, a ghost of a smile; and he may not have been willing to admit it, but Hizashi could see it, the appreciation. To him, it was clear as day._

" _I-If you insist," the dark-haired one breathed out, his tone light._

" _Sweet!" the blond cheered. "I promise, you won't regret it." It was so hard to believe that just a few short months ago the two of them hadn't even known one another. And, it was slow, but little by little, Shota was warming up to him. To think, before he was hardly willing to go anywhere with him. And, he wasn't sure what it was, but there was something in his eyes, like their burdened dullness was finally ebbing away, clearing up a little more each day._

He didn't know how long he was out, but what could have been a couple hours felt more like just a few minutes when mumbles stirred him from his peace; hushed voices spoke lowly, and there was one in particular, slightly louder than the rest that teased his conscious. The moment he recognized the sound of it, someone else was giving his shoulder a rough shove, shaking quite violently to wake him up. "Hizashi…" he heard Nemuri call out to him as she shook him a bit harder.

Instantly, his eyes snapped open, and he didn't need to be told a word as his focus snapped to the man in the bed. His breathing was no longer even and his jaw was set tightly in pain and disorientation. "Shota?" he whispered, on his feet in an instant and next to the bed in the next. "H-Hey," he shiapered, heart aching at the way he tried to look around, still slightly out of it and unaware of his surroundings.

Aizawa drew in a sharp gasp and his hand instantly tried to reach for the gauze covering his eyes. "No, don't touch that," Hizashi muttered, gripping the man's hand before his fingers could make contact. "That has to stay right where it is," His voice was calm, gentle, contrasting hightly with what it was just a couple hours earlier. "E-Everything's alright," he assured, leading his hand to rest back at his side.

"H-Hiza-shi?" he questioned, movements easing just a tad at the sound of the familiar voice. His breathing was still erratic and shallow, but it did slow down as panic began to subside. "W-Why is it….so dark?" he asked, voice hoarse and raspy, his features pinched in fear and discomfort. "W-Where'm I?" he asked, again trying to look around. "Hizashi? What's going on?" he asked, his tone a plea as his hand reached out for the blond again, searching for something to ground himself with.

He no longer cared that others were watching, he knew there would be no judgement, and he grasped the wandering hand with both of his and held it as tightly as he dared. "Shota…" he muttered softly, "you...you were hurt, but everything will be f-ine," he assured, breath hitching with the word. "Just, for now, take it easy. Focus on resting and recovering, alright?" he said, giving the trembling hand a careful squeeze. "Get some more sleep, and when you wake up again...I...I have some things to tell you," he choked out, dreading the moment that would come, but it was something he couldn't avoid forever.

The other man only nodded, his short burst of energy waning after his alarm wore off. But, he had enough strength to return the squeeze, it was weak, but it was there. "O-Ok," he stammered, swallowing thickly as he let the tension drain from his aching muscles. He drew in a deep breath, and as he exhaled, the hold on Hizashi's hand loosened until it went slack in his own. Just like that, he was gone again, his moment of wakefulness gone in a flash, and the blond couldn't help but think it as cruel. But, the more he rested, the better, the more it delayed the inevitable, putting off the moment that would surely shatter what purpose the man had left.

* * *

 **You guys have no idea how tempted I am to make this into an Erasermic fic.**


	7. How Bad Is It?

**Beta read by: SinikkavonWolperting and DragonRiderSayomi**

 **I also have a tumblr, I use the same name on there, for any questions or concerns. Or you can always PM me, that works as well.**

 **So, now one was against me turning this into an actual Erasermic fic, so that I shall do. I had zero complaints, so I take it that it's a go ahead. C:**

* * *

 **inFamousSlyMonkey : Thank you! :D And ohhhh yeah, the news does something alright. And I do have an idea of how he'll get his purpose back, but that still won't be for a while, and there is still loads of pain to be had first. ;D**

 **PromiseMeForever15 : Thank you kindly. I originally wanted this to just be heavy with the bromance, but the shipping just sort of happened unintentionally. But, now I'm not gonna be so subtle about it is all. lmao**

 **Lady-Miraculous101 : LMAO, I SHALL, THERE IS NO GOING BACK NOW!**

* * *

He could only watch, could only stare as his best friend, the guy he had known for at least fifteen years of his life, half of his life, lied there near lifelessly. Sure, Shota had woken up for a short period of time, but he was still out of it, and not all there. That wasn't Shota. It wasn't the guy he knew. This was...a husk, and nothing more. Hizashi took a deep breath before he took another long sip of his coffee, not caring that it had cooled ages ago. How long did he plan on sleeping anyway; he could have sworn the man was in hibernation or something.

The blond sighed heavily and set his mug aside with a glance out the window. Was it really already that late in the day? The sun was already going down, and that just reminded him that he hadn't eaten all day. Funnily enough, he didn't even feel that hungry, but how could he? Even so, he could hear the lectures from both Nemuri and Toshinori in the back of his mind, nagging and lecturing him about taking care of himself. Not here, and they still pestered him about such things. They were right and he knew it, but he was the only one here, he couldn't just go and leave his friend alone. Conscious or not, the idea of walking out when he needed him most didn't sit well with the blond hero.

Lowering his head, he jerked it right back up at a light and timid knock on the door. There wasn't a chance to say or do anything as the one on the other side sauntered in, and upon first glance, he couldn't see who it was under the load in their arms. "Hizashi?" they called out, and he instantly recognized the owner of that light and buttered tone.

"Nemuri?" he questioned, eyebrow rose in curiosity. "I thought that, uh, you were going home for the night," he mentioned, looking back to the stuff she was hauling in. And it wasn't until then that the smell of hot and fresh food slithered up his nostrils. "And what's with all that?" he asked, hopping up to lend a hand.

Once the most of it was transferred over, she shrugged her shoulders and looked over to Shota. "You know, just a bit of this, a bit of that. Brought a few things to make this place, I dunno, seem more welcoming, I guess," she explained. At that, the blond's gaze found its way to the yellow comforter like object in her arm.

"Is that…?" he asked, looking from that to the deep eyes before him.

"Hey, it unzips, it makes a fine cover," she said, as if it should have been obvious. Then her expression dropped, taking on a more serious look. "I just figured," she glanced over to make sure the other was still out, "since he can't...you know, that it might be a good idea to have some things that are familiar. It might help make him more comfortable," she reasoned.

Hizashi couldn't suppress his amused smile at that...she had a point, and he hadn't even thought about that. "I'm sure he'll appreciate it," he muttered, cutting his attention back over. "I know he will," he corrected with a firm nod.

"Oh," the woman piped up, bounding over to one of the empty chairs to deposit the things. All that was left in her hand was a brown paper bag, which she handed over. "I brought something to eat, I assumed you hadn't had anything, so I picked something up on the way by."

The blond chuckled lightly, but accepted the offered meal. "Thanks, but you didn't have to, they have food here," he reminded as he peered into the bag. It was nothing fancy, but at the moment, anything, really, would do.

"If you can call what they have food," the other hero mumbled under her breath as she crossed her arms. Inhaling deeply now herself, she flipped some hair over her shoulder. "Alright, now I'm going home for the night," she said with a light smile of her own. "Don't hesitate to call if you...need anything," she added. Nemuri cast one more sympathetic and sorrowful look in the underground hero's direction. And, with a sad dip of her head, she strolled back towards the door with one last, soft 'Good night'.

For a few seconds, Hizashi stood there, then heavily huffed out and dragged his feet back over to his claimed chair and dropped himself back into it. Well, at least now he didn't have to leave just yet. For that, he was relieved. As he mindlessly nibbled at his sandwich, his curious emeralds kept drifting over to the things Nemuri had brought, and yeah, it was a bit excessive, but he understood where she was coming from. Looking over, he could see a few of the man's clothing articles as well as his capturing weapon, and who knew what else she dragged up here. It was considerate, but a bit unnecessary.

Once he was finished with his meal, he balled up the paper and stood to go throw it in the trash. As he stepped over, out of the corner of his eye, he was sure he saw Shota move, or twitch or something. "Shota?" he whispered, his head swiveling in the dark-haired man's direction. "Y-You awake?" he asked swallowing the swelling lump in his throat.

The other man groaned uncomfortable as he shifted, what parts of his face were visible scrunched in disquiet. He took a deep breath, which hitched in the back of his throat, causing him to let out a few coughs. Taking in another sharp inhale, Shota tried to push himself up, his body already stiffening from his momentary confusion and panic. "Hey, hey," Hizashi muttered, instantly dropping his trash and skipping over, "calm down." He placed one hand on the hero's upper back and the other wrapped around his wrist as it attempted to reach for his face. "D-Don't touch that," he instructed, guiding his hand away, his own sliding over it to make sure it stayed down this time.

Shota lowered his head for a moment before turning and trying to face the location of the voice. "H-zashi?" he muttered, tone weak and word cut off from hoarseness. Leaning his head back, he took a deep breath, shuddery and quick. "W-Wha…?" he went to ask, unsure where he was going with it. There were so many questions he wanted, needed, to ask, but he didn't know which to ask first.

"Everything's alright," the blond assured, his brow furrowed at the light sheen of sweat on the other's forehead. And, he could only assume it was from a few unwanted dreams. "How are you feeling?" he questioned as his hand gave an encouraging squeeze, and his heart lifted when the subtle gesture was returned.

Shota thought about it a moment, and he honestly had no idea how to answer; he was bewildered, everything ached, everything...everything just felt so out of place. "I...I dunno," he whispered, the puzzlement and absence of himself in that reply tugging heavily on the blond's core. His free hand curled at his side, gripping the sheets until his knuckles drained of color. "W-What...happened?" he asked, something in his tone telling that he already remembered most of what went down, but his memory was fuzzy, things jumbled together after a certain point.

"Shota…" Hizashi uttered, aware of the slight slickness of his palms as he spoke, "you're in...in the hospital right now, but things are getting better," he promised, hating the light tremble that carried his voice out. It spoke volumes of the bits and pieces he was leaving out. He released his hold on the other just long enough to grab the chair and pull it closer.

When he turned back to face the dark-haired hero, he hesitated at the sight of him facing forward, a lost mask draped over his features. "Everything alright?" he asked, mouth suddenly arid as he awaited a response.

His mouth opened and closed a few times before something finally made its way out. "Something's...wrong, isn't it?" he questioned dryly. "Hizashi...what aren't you telling me?" he asked, turning back towards the other, his shoulders rising and falling with his quick and apprehensive breaths. "'Zashi…" he croaked out, the nickname hardly audible over the pounding of the blond's own heart. "Tell me," he pleaded, the simple demand enough to shatter the momentary joy the other had.

He was sure his heart was on the edge of implosion, and he couldn't tell if it was beating harder than ever before, or if it had ceased completely; it was just numb as his eyes rested on his friend as he lied there, waiting for his response. "I-I told you," he stuttered, taking his seat reaching for the other's hand but paused when it was inches away, "Everything's...alright."

"You always were such a terrible liar," Shota scoffed, lowering his head once more. "It's about my eyes...isn't it?" he asked as he reached for the bandage shielding them, and this time he wasn't stopped as his fingers glided over the coarse fabric. "I'm right, aren't I?" he went on, letting his hand drop to his side. His fingers dug into the white material and his teeth grit in frustration. "Dammit! Say something already!" he blurted out, only to fall deathly silent the second it was out there. "S-Sorry," he apologized, loosening his grip at the sound of the other hero's faltering exhales.

Hizashi didn't reply right away, but he did scoot closer and take Shota's hand back in his own after gathering his wits back up. "No, it's alright, I understand…" he promised, finding himself unable to look the other in the face once more. He had every right to be angry with him, of course he knew something was wrong, and here he was pretending like everything was as it should be. He was lying right to his best friend's face.

"I can't...even open them," he sighed, his free hand raised to drape over his covered gaze. "I...can't…" he whispered, afraid to raise the volume of his voice above that and keep his composure. He flinched slightly when the grip tightened, the slight shaking ran up his arm. "I can handle it…" he promised, afraid he already knew, expected the worst.

"Shota…" he let out a nervous chuckle and ran his free hand over his face, "shit, where do I even start…" he muttered to himself. How the hell were you supposed to tell someone something like this. "Shota...you're right, there is something...wrong," he squeezed out, each word like a dagger to his chest, each one hit the mark. "It...It's your eyes," he breathed out, feeling as though it was he himself that was destroying this man's life. "You...can't...you can't see anymore," he blurted out, wanting to get this over with as quickly as possible. And, he let that news hang in the air for a moment. In reality, he was unable to speak after that, and he squeezed his eyes shut, unable to will himself to watch as it sunk in. But, he didn't miss the sharp breath in. It was a sound he'd always remember for the rest of his life.

Then, in a voice eerily calm, "Oh...is that so?" The dark-haired man drew in deeply, the air bitter on the back of his tongue and his hand went slack at his side. He didn't know how to feel or how to react. What was one supposed to do in a situation like that?

Hizashi still couldn't utter a word for some time, and for a few minutes they sat in silence until Shota cleared his throat, snapping him from his reverie. "I'm so sorry," he whispered, "I'm so sorry, Shota…this is..."

"Is that all?" he asked, flatly.

Hizashi was caught off-guard by the question. 'All'? Was that 'all'? "What?" he voiced aloud, the shock clear and tangible in his tone. "Y-You're blind! Don't you understand, you'll never see again, and you're asking if that's 'all'!?" he cried out, on his feet in an instant. "How can you sit there...and ask that?" he stammered out, losing control of his demeanor quickly; both hands were gripped tightly in his hair as he paced a few feet away. "How...how are yo-"

"Is that all!?" Shota cut in again, something in his voice beckoning the blond to glance over. His chest ached at the way the man's own rose and fell with haste, his breaths were taken in through his nose and both hands had a death grip on the sheets on either side of him now.

Now he understood. "Yeah…" he mumbled, dropping his gaze to the floor, "that's all."

"And...they're caught?" he questioned next, hoping that if they were in custody, then maybe it wouldn't have been as huge a slap in the face.

"Yeah," Hizashi replied simply, returning to his seat.

That was what he wanted to hear; however, it didn't provide the allievation he craved. "T-That's good," he responded, finally relaxing a little more against the bed. He hadn't even been awake for thirty minutes, or twenty for that matter, and already he was exhausted from the short exchange. "Also...is everyone else alright?"

Again, Hizashi couldn't help but release a light-hearted laugh at the question. Seriously, when was the guy going to start worrying about himself. "Yeah, everyone else is just fine. Concerned about you, but other than that, they'll live. Can't say the same about the villains…" he added, cutting his eyes to the side. "But, yeah, everyone else is fine. Nemuri and Toshinori should be coming back first thing in the morning," he informed. "They were both here all day, and wouldn't you know it, as soon as they're gone, you decide to wake up, I'm sure they'll get a kick out of that," he said in amusement.

For the first time since waking up, the corner of Aizawa's mouth tugged upward, but it was forced and unnatural. But, the expression faltered quickly and his hands were swiftly fiddling with the covers.

Hizashi nervously cleared his throat and strolled back over to his belongings. "Oh, uh, Nemuri brought a few things from your place. Hope you're ok with that. ...Guess it doesn't matter now though, seeing as the stuff is already here," he shrugged. "Um, she bought some clothes, and your sleeping bag, and...well, that's about it," he summed up. While he rambled on, Shota hadn't said a word, he just fell deathly silent as the words flowed in, falling on deaf ears. He wasn't processing any of it as that one word echoed against the inside of his skull: _blind_. He expected that, had a feeling, but hearing it, having it confirmed, and by one who was closest to him no less…

"Shota?" The dark haired man flinched at the call of his name, and he jolted out of his temporary stupor. "Are you feeling alright? You look...pale," he muttered, narrowing his gaze. "He-"

"I need a moment...alone," he mumbled, head bowed. He didn't bother facing the other this time around. His voice was distant and reserved, and it was almost as if he were talking to himself.

"Yeah, of course," the blond replied. He desperately wanted to stay by his side, to be there for him, but if he needed his space, then who was he to deny him that? "I need to head out and get a few things anyway. I-I'll be back in an hour or so...if that's alright." Shota merely nodded and nothing more. "Do you need anything while I'm out?" he asked, searching for anything that would allow him to stay just a little bit longer. Again, only a head movement. "O-Ok. Just, take it easy," he whispered, glancing from him to the door before strolling closer to it.

For a mew minutes, Aizawa just layed there, even after the 'click' of the door reached his ears It felt as though an eternity had passed, a lifetime of nothing but the ringing in his ears and the various sounds going on just outside, But, he couldn't concentrate on any of it, didn't care for any of it. And, despite how tired he was, he had never been more awake. Taking a deep breath, his right hand drifted towards the bandages around his eyes, stopping as his fingertips brushed the edges, a flash of recalled pain pricked under his touch. He pressed them just a little more until he could feel a little bit underneath them, and he felt sick just from the small amount he made contact with. The skin...it was rough, scarred, and it reached down to at least an inch below his left eye.

If it was like this so far down, he couldn't even imagine what the rest must have been like. Before he could venture farther, afraid of how bad it would be, he snatched his hand away and slammed it back down by his side. He didn't want to believe it, couldn't believe it. Even if it was Hizashi that told him, someone he was sure would never lie to him...not about something like this anyway, it just couldn't be…

" _What is it that makes you, you?"_ That single question, it replayed over and over again in his head, that haunting and taunting voice that wouldn't just leave him alone.

"Dammit," he grit out between clenched teeth. He hoped deep down, underneath everything that this was all a long nightmare. From the moment he was attacked in the streets to now, he prayed that none of it was real and merely a life-like nightmare. "Dammit, dammit dammit," he repeated over and over, his hands tightening more with each one. It was over, everything was done for; what was the point anymore?

Soon, temptation got the better of him again, and this time both hands were grabbing at the fabric, peeling it away by a few inches, enough to expose a good portion of his face. His fingers traced over the marred flesh, slowly trailing closer and closer to his eyes until they finally reached their destination, and he froze as the sensation sank in. Repulsed, disgusted, he forcefully tugged the bandages back down, regretting ever letting his curiosity get the better of him. This was real...this was all completely real…

* * *

He didn't know where he was going, Hizashi was just letting his body move on its own as he strolled down the multiple halls. And, after about thirty minutes, he didn't even know where he was anymore. He did know that he needed to find something else to do, something to keep him busy. But, the other side of him was still with Shota, wondering if it was safe to go back yet. Did he have enough time, or did he need more? His hands raised to scratch at his roots as the arguing sides of his mind went at it relentlessly.

No, he would give the man his space; he just woke up and had to hear news like that...he needed space to breathe without being smothered. Dropping his hands to his side, he continued down the hall, refusing to look back, denying his curiosity the satisfaction of doing so. Yeah, going out and picking up a few things it was. He had a feeling he'd be spending quite a bit of time here anyway, may as well be prepared for it. Plus...there was a couple of other things he wanted to get as well.

With that, he carried on, his back straighter as he ignored the few curious glances he received...he was sure he must have looked rather rough, but it mattered not. He couldn't believe he was thinking this, but how he looked was the last thing on his mind at the moment. It was only a few minutes walk to the store, so he could be back within at least thirty minutes. Right, he wouldn't be gone long. By the time he stepped outside, the sun had already made its leave and the streetlights flicked to life, creating a lighted path for him to follow. Still, as his feet moved on their own, his head kept turning in the direction of the hospital, where he assumed Shota's room to be, or in the general direction anyway.

'Cut it out already,' he thought to himself, shaking his head. Hizashi sped up his pace, and before he knew it, he stood just outside the store, staring at the door for a few more seconds before eventually forcing himself to enter. The moment he was through and the air conditioning hit him, he let out a heavy breath and relaxed his shoulders; he hadn't realized until then just how tense he was. He glanced around a bit and once he gathered himself he began to look around, grabbing a few things here and there absentmindedly in his haste to get back as soon as he could.

Once his items were rung up and paid for, he offered a swift thanks to the cashier and made his way back out. Bag held tightly in his grip. First thing he did upon returning was look through his purchases and began to assemble them accordingly, smiling to himself the whole time. It wasn't much, but it was the best he could think to do for the man. And, he knew it probably wouldn't mean much, not now anyway…

Everything put together, his hands wrapped around the arrangement protectively, Hizashi made his way back to the room, pausing just outside the door. He took a deep breath to calm himself, preparing himself for whatever mood the man would be in. But, as he tore one hand away to push it open, he hesitated, his ears catching a sound on the other side. It sounded like a bang...and he didn't waste another second, the basket, along with its contents were dropped to the floor, forgotten as the blond shoved the door open, his breath catching in his throat painfully as his gaze scanned over the room. Finally, his eyes landed on Shota...out of bed.

"Shota…" he whispered, finding himself glued to the spot as he watched the man, leaning heavily on the counter...bandages draped over the marble surface. His own head was bowed, hidden from sight as his shoulders rose and fell with his deep and uncontrolled inhales.

He said nothing, but his head slightly tilt with the sound of the other approaching slowly. Even when a gentle hand landed on his left shoulder, he didn't move, only a light jostle traveled through his body. But, he kept his head low, his hands gripped the edge of the counter and his teeth grit to the point where he feared them chipping from the force of it. Without uttering a sound, the dark-haired man loosened his grasp on the counter, and if it weren't for the other's hold on him, he would have dropped to the floor right there; but, Hizashi assisted in lowering him down as he sank down.

"I...I guess it really is true…" he muttered, one hand moving to cover his eyes, fingers twitching slightly as they felt the rough and marred skin underneath his touch.

Letting out a choked exhale, Hizashi got down on his knees in front of the other, and carefully, he wrapped his hands around the other man's wrists and eased his hands away; however, with his face now exposed, Shota was quick to turn his head away, allowing some of his hair to fall down as a curtain.

His chest tight, the blond slipped one hand under the other's chin and cautiously maneuvered his face to look up at him. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't at least a little taken aback by the sight of it...it was his first time seeing him since...since finding him blindfolded and stained with his own blood. He didn't have words, he couldn't speak, and his mouth just fell open as he took it all in. Even he didn't want to believe it, but seeing it now…

To put it lightly, there really was no hope for his sight, there was no saving it, there was, there was nothing to save. Before he could stop it, a sorrowful and sympathetic sound escaped from his throat, and he closed his own eyes and turned his attention to the side. "We should get you back in bed," he suggested, wrapping a hand around the other's waist without waiting for his agreement in the matter.

"So?" Shota asked, his tone broken and hushed. He didn't budge from the spot and his head lifted back up, eliciting another glance from the blond. Hizashi was again staring right at the scars, this time unable to look away when the next question rang in his ears. "How...how bad is it?"

* * *

 **Next chapter is gonna be a pretty sappy one, so I hope people are ready for that. ;D**


	8. Visitors

**Beta read by: SinikkavonWolperting and DragonRiderSayomi**

 **Ok, this one may be a bit slow, but after this things will start picking back up again, so get ready for that. XD And, I do hope people are ready for a bit of sappiness, because here it is. ;D**

 **Song: Silence is Easy - Starsailor (I marked where to listen.)**

* * *

 **Weak for angst : LMAO GOOD. All I ever wanted was the tears of the readers, I feel accomplished now. He needs all of them, he just needs to be surrounded by everyone and smothered by all the love. It's the only thing that can make things better right now. ;A; XD That is a good question, but I'm just going to assume all this is before Eri. And there is more, so much more pain in the near future, but it has to get worse before it can get better, right? ;A;**

 **inFamousSlyMonkey : Thank you very much, hope this one is just as enjoyable. :D**

 **KittyCat809 : It is here, all the sappiness. It's a short scene with it, but it's sweet and I hope people drown in the fluff of it. XD Of course, there will be more moments like this, but I need to ease this into the romance~**

* * *

Hizashi sat there, his legs crossed with his hands clasped in his lap as a couple of hours rolled by. There he remained for the whole time, not knowing what to do, how to react, what was he supposed to do after what transpired? He looked to Shota as he slept, and his thumbs twirled around each other as he watched on. It had taken a good bit of time to get the man calm enough to actually get back in bed, and then there was the task of getting his eyes covered once more. Of course, he would never admit it...but, it was almost a relief to have those wounds out of sight again, and he hated himself for even thinking that. It was true, though.

His weary gaze flicked to the clock on the wall as it ticked on, the sound of it echoed in his skull, a constant reminder of the time elapsed. Not too much longer, he was sure, and Shota would be allowed to leave this place, and he hoped, prayed, that knowing that would at least put the man more at ease. To be able to go somewhere familiar instead of a place like this, it was something to look forward to.

Taking a deep breath, the blond looked back to the table by the bed's side and the basket that rested there. All the items had been hastily and haphazardly placed back inside. From the black licorice to the taiyaki, all of it lied in it with disorganization. He ran both hands through his locks and gave them a good ruffle to knock more of the strands out of place; all it took was a little bit more effort to finally undo all of it from its swoop. Then his right hand rounded back around to remove his shades and place them on the table next to him. Already it was one in the morning, and he couldn't help but wonder where the day went...it seemed like just a few hours ago… He shook his head, still trying his best to get that memory from his mind, the image of seeing him down there like that. It was over with now, it was done, he could move on.

But, it wasn't that easy; if only it were. He really needed to get some sleep, his exhausted and muddled state was not helping in the slightest, if anything, it was just making all this even worse. Although, it was apparent rather quickly that he wouldn't be getting any real rest anytime soon. His light gaze hovered over the other, never so much as twitching anywhere else as he watched the slight change in his breathing and the occasional tightness of his visible features. He could only imagine what was going on in that head of his.

* * *

 _Everything was so dark, not a speck of light to be seen in any direction. Shota let out a shaky exhale and glanced around a little more, finding it to be the same in every direction he looked. "Hello?" he called out, his timid tone echoing back to him, bouncing off the darkness itself. He got no reply, so he took the first step; his foot landed lightly, the 'tap' sounded out clearly and sharply. After that, he took another, and continued forth, his eyes constantly darted from side to side, searching for the slightest of changes, only to come up empty. What the hell was all this?_

 _He swallowed thickly before pausing once more. It was already obvious that he wasn't getting anywhere, or maybe he was; he didn't know, everything looked the same. All he could make out was his own subtle breaths and the slight ringing in his ears. Something wasn't right, and underneath his own hesitant breaths, he was sure he heard another's inhales...he wasn't alone here. But, he could see no other._

" _Who's there?" he asked, despising the slight tremble in his tone. "Answer me," he demanded, gaze now widened in fearful anticipation. He still didn't get an answer, but he could still make out those subtle signs of other life lurking about; the quiet steps that teased and mocked him. The man's hands clenched at his sides to subdue the quivers that traveled down his arms. "Dammit, come on," he swore under his breath._

" _Lost and confused...afraid and out of your element, what a sight to behold," a voice finally responded, reserved and taunting in nature. He didn't know it, he couldn't place it, but somehow it sounded familiar. He knew he'd heard it somewhere before. Then he felt it, that sting, that unbearable pain radiating from his eyes; it was a sensation he knew all too well. "My, how the mighty Eraserhead has fallen…" he drawled on, his words brushed down the back of the hero's neck, causing him to jump and spin on the spot to face the 'visitor'._

 _Shota stared back into those dulled eyes, a gaze that glared straight through him and right into his soul. The next second, he couldn't stand it any longer and his hands rose to press into his eyes, the burning was too much to bear anymore, searing him from the inside out. "Does it hurt?" Caustic asked, his teasing touch reaching out to caress over his left cheek._

" _Get off me," Aizawa bit back, yanking his head away with a hiss. "What the hell do you want?" he asked, his voice warped in his own ears as the image before him distorted, wavered and faded in and out of focus. "W-What did you do?" he questioned, dropping down to his knees when the agony became too much to handle. The white-hot pain, it was blinding, traveling from his face to the rest of his body._

" _Don't worry about it," the other replied slyly, the smile audible in his voice. "It'll all be over soon enough Eraser. And now, who will protect those precious students of yours?" The mention of that elicited a surprised gasp from the hero; where was he going with this? "So many kids with potential, what will they do now? The man who was sworn to protect them, to show them the way, reduced to this…" he patronized, crouching to kneel next to him. The touch was upon his face again, gripping tighter as the acid seeped from the man's palm. "Who's going to look out for them now?"_

 _He couldn't answer that, it was true, there was nothing he could do for them anymore...it was over, everything. His teeth grit and his head throbbed with the thoughts of what would happen now, what it meant for him, what it meant for his students. And he was right, how...how was he supposed to protect them when he couldn't even protect himself?_

" _That's right...there's not a damn thing you can do for them anymore. All you can do is stand by and listen to their cries, their screams, as one by one, they are picked off."_

Shota jerked awake, unable to catch his breath and his lunge burned with the desperate need for air. His right hand felt around him while his befuddled mind tried to compose itself and piece together where he was, what was happening, and his other instantly went to his eyes, panic rising at the fabric covering it. He wasn't even aware the light and alarmed whimpers were coming from himself until another hand wrapped around his wrist, preventing him from ripping the bindings away.

"S-Stop," he begged, weakly trying to pulled his arm away. "Leave...Leave me alone, please," he ranted on, feeling his chest constricting painfully more and more with every inhale he took. "Let go," he ground out, letting out another tormented whine when his attempts were unsuccessful and another hand grasped his other wrist. And, in the next instant, low words, almost hummed, trailed into his ears.

"Shhh," came the soothing tone, "everything's alright, I'm right here," Hizashi promised, the sound of him instantly calming him down a few degrees. "Shota...calm down," he whispered, his hold leaving his right hand to slide over his left and he began to motion his thumb in small circles over the back of it. "H-Hey, don't move, I'll be right back, ok?" he asked, waiting for Shota to give a small nod before he slowly backed away. Even so, he kept a close watch on the man to make sure everything really was fine while he stepped away.

Aizawa stayed there in relative silence; and though he knew deep down that it was all just a dream, that none of it was real, his heart still thrummed in his ears and his hands still quaked with unease. He heard some shuffling around, a few things tumbled to the floor followed by a couple under-the-breath swears. But, in less than a minute, that comforting presence was back and sat next to him; the weight on the mattress caused him to shift slightly and lean into it. And, Hizashi was right there to make sure he remained upright.

 **Songer here:**

"Here," he said, something light in his tone as an object was placed over the dark-haired man's head as well as his ears. It didn't take a lot of thinking to know exactly what it was. A few clicks later and nostalgic and easy tunes caressed his senses. "You remember this song, right?" the blond asked, glancing over to see some of the concerned and tight creases slip away from the other's features. "I showed this song to you, when we were second years. At first you went on about how much you hated it and about how bad my taste was. But, wouldn't you know it, I seem to recall hearing you listening to it when you thought no one else was listening," he chuckled lightly at the sight of Shota's mouth tugging slightly at the memory.

"Yeah," he whispered, "and it still sucks," he joked, lowering his head as he continued to listen, and for the time being, pretended that none of this was happening, that he was back in those times, when everything was normal and how it should be. His right hand lifted again, but this time, instead of reaching for his face, it pressed against the headphones, pressing it closer.

Next to him, there was a slight movement, an arm that interlocked with his own and went to guide him out of bed; and, he allowed it to happen, let himself be lead away while he focused on nothing but the music, paid attention to nothing but that as he unsteadily walked across the room. He had no idea where they were going, didn't care to ask, but they didn't go far before they stopped and Hizashi left his side again momentarily. This time, he returned sooner and slowly helped him lower to the floor, but there was something soft beneath them, not the cold hard surface he had expected. He knew the feeling all too well as he slipped into his sleeping bag, and it wasn't long before the other eased in behind him, making sure they were both situated before zipping it up. It was almost instant relief, and he allowed himself to melt against the softness of the material as well as the heat from the blond. His body relaxed, and neither of them uttered a single word as an arm wrapped itself around him and fingers combed through his unkempt locks.

Hizashi didn't dare move as his hand ran patterned strokes through the dark hair. Even in this position, he could feel most of the tension leave the other's form as he relaxed into the touch, the mere presence of his friend helping to drain him of his worries. They both knew it wouldn't be for long, but if he could take away some of Shota's suffering, even if for just a few hours, then dammit, he'd do what he could.

"I'm here for you," he promised, moving his head in order to rest his chin on top of Shota's head as he listened to his evening breaths. There was still a few remnants of shuddering running through him, but that, too, was slowly beginning to ebb away. "I'll always be right here, alright?" he mouthed, closing his own eyes, the slight sounds of the music reaching even him. He took a deep breath and slowly released it. He had no idea what was going to happen from here, what was in store for them, but one thing was for sure, he'd stick by no matter what.

* * *

Hizashi was surprised, to say the least, surprised the night went easy from there, that Shota hadn't so much as twitched through the hours of the dusk, and that he himself was able to actually get some sleep himself. Despite all this, he was sure he would have been alright with a few more hours. Turns out, about five hours doesn't make up for missing about eight, who would've thought?

He blinked blearily a few times, trying to clear his vision, and the moment it adjusted just enough, he was sure he almost had a heart attack when he noticed the outline of someone standing just a few feet away. There was no stopping the string of startled swears that filtered from his mouth at the sight. "What the f- what the hell are you doing here?" he blurted out, sitting up in an instant, the movement not even disturbing the man still sleeping in front of him.

"Am I interrupting something?" Nemuri questioned, single eyebrow raised in suspicion as the corner of her mouth curved slyly.

Flustered, and bowing his head to hide the slight pink tinge to it, the blond got to his feet and folded his arms over his chest. "You could have called or something," he said, voice pitched and hasty. "Jesus woman, trying to scare people half to death."

"I did…" she replied flatly. "But your phone's dead," she informed, switching her weight to one leg. Confused, Hizashi glanced down at his phone which still lied next to Shota, and his brows knit to see the man's hand lying on it. He guessed it must have drained from the song playing over and over again. But, he didn't remember putting it on repeat… Shaking his head, he crouched down to scoop it up, and as gently as he could, he plucked the headphones from the other's head and placed all of them to the side.

He glanced to the clock to see that it was already eight in the morning, no wonder he was still so tired. Then, he glanced back down to the dark-haired man, debating if they should leave him down there or not. It was the first time he actually got some peaceful rest...so, perhaps it was for the best to leave him be.

Then he wondered to himself, did the nurses ever come in to check? He didn't remember anyone ever coming in, but maybe they did and left them there as well. Whatever the case, he was just thankful no one woke them up and that no one disturbed either of them in any way. Carefully, he stepped over the still form, holding his breath until he was safely on the other side.

"So, something up?" he asked once he was stable and standing in front of the woman.

She tightened her expression and slowly shook her head. "Nothing," she replied, strolling over to take a seat in one of the chairs. "What? Am I not allowed to drop by and visit a friend?" she asked with humor as she crossed one leg over the other. "How is he?" she questioned, voice now serious as she glanced down at him, her gaze swirled with concern and Hizashi could see the sorrow and sympathy mix within them.

"Could be better," he sighed, taking the one next to her. "He knows…" he sighed, not needing to clarify further for her to understand. "I told him last night," he went on, a slight hint of guilt laced in his words. "I probably shouldn't have said anything...he didn't need to hear that yet."

Nemuri blew heavily out of her nose and leaned forward as the other spoke. "Hizashi…" she interrupted, eliciting his attention, and she stared back into those confused and hazy jade orbs, "he had to know. And, the sooner he knew, the better. He was bound to find out sooner or later, and it wasn't something anyone would have been able to keep from him for long. Just look on the bright side. It's better that he heard it from someone he trusts and cares for than to hear it from a stranger, or to have found out for himself," she explained as the blond buried his face in his hands. He knew she was right, but at the same time, him being the one to relay the news, it was as though he was the one crushing Shota's future.

"How did he...take it?" she asked after a few moments, fearing the response.

He thought back to the scene he came back to, and he was so close to mentioning that, but he stopped himself; that wasn't for him to talk about. It was a delicate and vulnerable moment, and it wasn't for him to talk about with others. He'd never seen the man like that, and he still wished that it had been nothing more than a bad dream.

"He took it...better than expected," he sighed, and it was clear that he was leaving something out. She'd known him for long enough to hear the unspoken hurt. "I know it's a lot to take, and it may not have all soaked in yet, but when it does…" he didn't finish that sentence and just bowed his head lower.

"I told you before, and I'll tell you again," she mumbled, leaning back in her chair. "He'll be alright. Not today, and not tomorrow. Hell, maybe not even a year from now, but I know he will be. We've known each other for close to sixteen years now, and if I've learned anything, it's that the both of you are stubborn and nothing can keep you guys down." She offered the other a warm smile, "Don't worry so much, he'll bounce back from this, just give him some time...we all will."

Hizashi managed to halfway return the smile, but it swiftly fell away when there was a knock at the door, the sound catching both him and Nemuri off guard and pulled a small jolt from the both of them. Even Shota stirred slightly at the sound. Brows knit in annoyance, the blond jumped to his feet and covered the short distance over, wanting to put a stop to the noise before it could wake the man completely. Without hesitation, he gripped the handle and swung the door open, pausing the moment he saw the two on the other side and his mouth stopped, his words catching in his throat.

"What are you two doing here?" he asked, question airy. His tired gaze drifted from Midoriya to Uraraka, a cross between irritation and bewilderment in his expression. At first, neither of them spoke, the teacher's obvious disdain with their visitation putting them on the spot and stealing their confidence away.

Swallowing thickly, the young hero looked passed the pro, his curious scrutiny flashing with puzzlement. "We...just wanted to see how Aizawa-sensei was," he replied quietly, instantly snapping his attention away to stare at the floor.

The blond took a deep breath and prepared himself to turn the two of them away, but then another voice spoke from behind him, groggy and slightly out of it. "Who is it?" Shota asked, voice cracking a small amount before he roughly cleared it. He glanced over his shoulder to see the man propped up on one elbow, his face drawn in obvious discomfort as he worked his way into a sitting position. "Zashi?" he called out when he didn't get a response right away. He dipped his head just enough for a few locks of hair to fall over his features and the other sighed heavily.

"It's...two of your students," he replied, blinking his eyes closed at the use of his nickname and cringed internally knowing that both the young heroes heard it clearly. Luckily, neither of them commented or reacted to it.

"I-It's alright if we can't…" Midoriya stammered, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "We were just worried and…"

"Well, you're already here," Hizashi muttered, still reluctant to let them by. Turning back towards them real quick, he leaned in close, making sure they were the only ones that would hear him. "Both of you, not a single word about anything that happened, do you understand?" he asked, his gaze blazing with sincerity and warning. "And not a single uttering about you know…" he trailed off, struggling to finish that sentence. "Or else, I'll be sure the two of you have detention for the remainder of your time at UA."

Both of them paled, fear tangible in their stare. "We...understand," the young girl replied, her mouth curled in on itself when the teacher stepped to the side to allow them entry, but he kept a watchful eye on them, daring them to so much as step out of line.

By the time they were in and at the foot of the bed, they paused as they watched Midnight helping Aizawa to his feet and lead him back to his bed where he sat at the edge of it. They couldn't see much past the curtain of unwashed locks, but both of them glanced in the direction he came from, instantly noticing the familiar yellow sleeping bag. Did he really sleep on the floor? To say they were surprised would have been a lie.

"S-Sensei," Izuku stuttered, unable to tear his gaze from the bandages around the man's eyes, and the news from All Might echoed in his head. He hadn't said a single word to anyone else, not even Uraraka knew. His chest clenched tighter though at the way the man, one of the teachers he looked up to, turned his head away from him. More hair fell to block the young hero's view.

Shota blew heavily out of his nose before finally lifting his head. He may not have been his old and usual self, but that wasn't an excuse for him to appear this way in front of them. "Why are you two here?" he asked, cutting right to the chase; his hands were on his knees and his fingers were curled up as he waited for their response.

"We were worried," Midoriya repeated, all of a sudden feeling more than a little uneasy about being here. And, now that he thought about it, perhaps it wasn't the best idea to drop by uninvited like this. But, he knew if he had asked that there was no way they'd be allowed to. "We all are, others wanted to come as well, but we thought it'd be better if there were fewer of us," he explained, feet shuffling on the spot.

"I appreciate the concern," the older hero mumbled, straightening up a little more, "But, there is no need, I'm fine." His words didn't quite match the mask he wore, contrasting heavily with one another. However, his voice didn't waver and there was confidence, albeit forced, flowing beneath it. "You can let the others know as well," he added, now turning his attention away as he pulled his legs up onto the bed and scooted his way back. ' _The man who was sworn to protect them, to show them the way, reduced to this…'_ He hadn't thought about it much, but now that some of them were standing right before him, witnessing him in such a way...it was just wrong. No one should ever have to see this side of him, especially not them.

For a few moments, the others fell silent and merely stood there awkwardly, unsure how to proceed. Of course, they both had burning questions, but none of them were really appropriate to ask, or were too sensitive a subject so soon after everything. "How...how is everything?" Uraraka asked after a few more seconds, deciding it was best to keep the conversation and inquiries generalized. Still, there was no mistaking that subtle tightness of the man's jaw.

"As I said," he echoed his earlier statement, "everything's fine, and everything will be fine. Anything else?" he asked, obviously having enough of this visit already. ' _And now, who will protect those precious students of yours?'_ He clenched his teeth tighter as his nails bit into his legs. Everything would be alright, they didn't need him; they had others who could watch out for them. That's right, he wasn't the only one there for them...they had plenty of others.

Midoriya chewed on his lip for a moment. "When are they letting you leave?" he asked, perking up slightly at the prospect. "I'm just wondering since, you know, so many of the others want to see you too, but didn't feel right coming here-"

"Soon," Aizawa replied, his tone sharp as a blade. He hated this, they way they danced around the main issues, they were walking on eggshells around him...like he was fragile, like he couldn't handle the gravity of the situation. "It should be soon."

Sensing his discomfort, Hizashi was back on his feet in an instant, and he ignored the curious glance Nemuri gave him as he sauntered closer. "Hey, why don't you two maybe come back later…" he suggested, cutting his eyes to Shota's hands, his eyes narrowed at the marks his nails were leaving on his legs. "He just woke up, and there will be plenty of time for chit-chat later, alright?" he said, waving his hands for the to step away. "Besides, don't you guys have school today or something?"

"I-It's Sunday," Uraraka replied, he face falling at the obvious attempt to get rid of them.

"Well, whatever, I'm sure you guys have better things to do, like studying. Last I checked, your grades weren't the best. Now, skedaddle and do some studying," he mumbled, ushering them closer to the door. The two of them put up little resistance, receiving the message loud and clear. But, he paused once they were outside and he was in standing over the threshold. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell the others about your visit, alright?" he spoke lowly, his eyes softening as he talked. "Things are a little...rough right now," he added, giving them another nod as their cue to leave.

Midoriya hesitated for only a fraction of a second, but he returned the nod, figuring now wasn't the time to argue the matter. This was still a difficult thing to swallow, and now that he's seen it himself, he still wasn't sure if he could accept it as true… "Take care," he heard muttered behind him before the door was eased shut, leaving the two of them leaving more worried and with more questions than what they arrived with.

"I wonder what that was all about," Uraraka mumbled, mostly to herself. One glance, and the other could see the confusion in her face. "I think something's wrong," she added, and his fingers twitched at his sides. Something was, but that wasn't for him to reveal.

"Yeah, you're right," he said instead, keeping his lips sealed. "We really should go though," he suggested, already heading down the hall, and her light steps followed soon after. He was sure they both saw it...the scars, the marks peering out from under the bandages; he felt slightly nauseous just thinking about the extent of the damage if that little bit was anything to go off of.

Uraraka's mouth thinned at the tone in the other's voice, and it was clear he knew something, there was no doubt in her mind. Whatever it was though, she was sure he had his reasons for keeping it from her, especially when there was trust beneath him. Still, that didn't mean it didn't hurt knowing there were secrets he wasn't willing to share with his own friends.

* * *

Fortunately, for most of the remainder of the day, no one else stopped by other than Toshinori and few other staff members. But, thankfully, their visitations were short and sweet, none of them wishing to overstay their welcome, knowing full well the delicacy of the circumstances. Through all of it, Shota hardly uttered a word, not having much to say. What could he say? They all knew what happened, and they all knew of the aftermath, there was nothing he could say that they didn't already know.

Before they knew it, the day was already again nearing its end. Nurses had come through a few times to make sure everything was in order, and to let them know that it was alright for him to remove his bandages, which he had still failed to do. He was never even tempted to follow through with it...not after last night.

" _How bad is it?" he asked, facing the direction he knew his closest friend to be, the one he knew would never lie to him. "Zashi, answer me," he pleaded, "how bad?" He asked the question, but from his tone, it was as though he already accepted the unspoken answer for what it was. And the other's silence was more than enough. "That bad...huh?" he sighed, the strip of white fabric slipped from his loosened grasp and fell to the tiled floor with the rest of it._

 _Hizashi's words caught in his throat, forcing him to cough around the lump before he could speak once more. "Shota...it'll heal more over time…" he said, hating himself the moment it was out there. What was wrong with him? The man was obvious self-conscious about, needing reassurance, and here he was saying stuff like that. It really wasn't that hard to say 'It doesn't look that bad.' Except...it was; but it wasn't the actual wound itself...it was so much more than that. Those burns, they were a reminder of what he couldn't prevent, of what he couldn't fix. He couldn't say it. He didn't think any less of the guy, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. "You know though, it doesn't matter how it looks, no one is going to-"_

" _I know," he replied, cutting the blond off. "I know, but…" he paused, not knowing how to put it into words. "It's already bad enough...I don't need for others to see what's become of me," he whispered._

 _The blond could feel his own spirit being ripped to shreds at the loss in his tone; he couldn't remember ever hearing him sounded so crushed in his life. "You must be tired," he finally said, knowing that wasn't the right thing to say either, but he also needed time to think, he needed a little more time to himself to consider everything that had happened. That...and as long as Shota was awake, he was suffering, and he couldn't bear to see that._

" _Yeah," Shota replied, understanding instantly. Before he could be helped back up, he made sure to clumsily gather all the discarded bandages, the fact that his hands were still trembling made it rather difficult. But, of course, Hizashi was there to lend a hand._

He'd remove them later...when he was home and out of sight of others; there was no rush to reveal to the world his shortcomings, not yet. And, that time was drawing closer with every passing minute. It wouldn't be long now before he would be back home, somewhere where he could finally take a moment to feel at ease and keep to himself while he soaked it all in.

Just a few more hours and he was allowed to leave; all the paperwork had been signed and filled out. They had been informed on what to expect, how to deal with things, but all of it wasn't sticking, it was just going right back out the other ear. What did it matter? He couldn't see, what more was there to understand...there was no amount of explaining that would prepare him for the rest of his life, there was just nothing that could make him feel any less ready for all this.

"Well, we're all set, so whenever you're ready," Hizashi said, gathering what he could in one arm, leaving his other arm free in case his assistance was needed...or, when it was. All he got in return was a minor nod as Shota pulled his jacket tighter around himself and bowed his head. Already, he was using his hair as a shield before they even stepped out the door. Dropping his brows, the blond stepped closer to link his free arm through one of his and gently began to lead him towards the door.

There were mixed feelings in the both of them: relief, excitement, but overshadowing both of them was the fear. Being here was one thing, it was safe, secure, there was nothing to worry about in this room, in this building. But, out there, it was a different story; they were stepping back out into the real world, where things wouldn't be so easy. To be honest, Hizashi was absolutely terrified, this was when everything would come crashing down, he knew it. Maybe not right away, and it may have taken a few days or so, but eventually, everything would fall apart. It was only a matter of time before that happened.

* * *

 **And don't worry, I haven't forgotten about the third villain. ;D**


	9. I'm Right Here

**Beta read by: SinikkavonWolperting and DragonRiderSayomi**

 **Finally, Shota gets to leave the hospital and head home. C: It's what we've all been waiting for, right? Hahaha...ha. OnO**

* * *

 **KittyCat809: XD I'm so sorry, but things get...kinda better? Maybe not yet, but it will at some point. lmao. Ohhhh, right, the reunion with the rest of the class will still be a thing, and it will be quite the adventure and I am so sorry ahead of time for what Imma do for that. ;D**

* * *

As soon as the two of them were seated and situated in the back of the taxi, Shota fell unnaturally silent, like a heavy silence, and his face was turned in the direction of the window as the car finally pulled out onto the highway. The man's hands clenched at his pants legs until his knuckles whitened, and his teeth sank into his bottom lip. Of course, he was thrilled to finally be leaving this place...but there was a part of him that was reluctant.

He was finally on his way home, after all those days, he'd finally get to walk through that door into a place that was familiar. He should have been more happy about that, excited perhaps, but he felt nothing… Shota jolted when a hand slid over his right and the fingers tightened around it.

"Hey, it's alright," Hizashi promised, his voice was no louder than a whisper. "There's no need to be nervous. Remember, I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere," he assured, giving the other a gentle squeeze. All the other did was nod slightly and return the gesture. He was right, there was nothing to be afraid of. As long as he had Hizashi, he knew everything would work out. Shota took a deep breath and slow released it, his heart slowed down as well and his hands loosened their hold. "That's it, just calm down, ok?"

The dark-haired man nodded again. "Y-Yeah, I know," he replied, lowering his head and just trying to relax for the rest of the trip. The rest of the way there, the blond's touch never left him, it continued to hold on securely, a constant reassurance and a promise that he would stay right there through all of this. For as long as it took.

As the vehicle slowed to a stop, Shota turned his head to the side when the other's hand was finally pulled away, but it was only gone for a few moments while Hizashi climbed out of his side and rounded to the other to open his door. Then, it was back, along with the other as he helped Shota to his feet and kept one arm wrapped around his waist to lead him towards the building. But, as they reached the bottom of the stairs, the blond looked from them and then back to his friend. He wasn't sure how he should ask this, he didn't want to accidentally insult the other's capabilities. But, at the same time, all of this was new to him, and he basically had to learn to do everything all over again.

"You think you can…?" he asked, unsure how to finish that question. Every way in his head just sounded wrong to him.

Taking a deep breath, Shota nudged a foot forward until it made a soft 'thud' sound against the first step. "I can try," he sighed, his faith in his own ability to do so already wavering before even attempting. His hold on the other man unconsciously tightened, his fingers dug into his arm to make sure he wouldn't stumble.

"Don't worry, I won't let you fall," Hizashi said, removing the arm from around his torso but left the other hand wrapped around his wrist. Shota's hand soon felt around and clung to the railing, the metal held in a death grip as he finally took that first step upward. He was hardly aware of the fact that he was holding his breath until his chest ached and his throat burned. "That's it, just a few more," the blond encouraged.

If he could have rolled his eyes, he would have. "That's a lie," he muttered instead. "I've been up these stairs a thousand times, I know there's a lot more than a few." He understood what he was doing though, and he appreciated it, of course. "This...this is nothing," he mumbled, trying his best to convince himself. But, even though the first was a success, it felt so far, it felt so impossible. There was still a long way to go, and for some reason he couldn't bring himself to move his other foot to take the next stair. Slowly, his inhales quickened, and there was a small, but definite, tremor that traveled through his legs...and he couldn't move. He was only a little ways off the ground, and yet…

"Hey, I got you," Hizashi's voice cut through the ringing in his ears, and the arm that snaked around him pulled him back in. He didn't give the other the chance to react or respond before his arm raised to rest around his shoulders, and then the same presence was on the back of his knees. Before he knew what was happening, he was being lifted into the blond's hold and a gasp was released from his startlement of the unexpected action.

"W-What are you doing?" he blurted out, his hands going around and gripping the fabric on the back of the man's shirt. He held on tight when he felt himself being moved, the ascension throwing him off and disorienting him. He clamped his mouth shut and buried his face in Hizashi's shoulder, praying that it'd be over soon.

The blond glanced down and his brows furrowed; this wasn't like him at all… "We're almost there," he informed as he took the last few steps until he stood before his apartment door. "I'm putting you down now, you ready?" He waited until he felt the movement against his neck that signaled a nod, and slowly and gently, he worked the other down until he was standing on his own two feet. He even guided Shota's hands until the were placed on the railing to make sure he had his bearings while he fished out the spare key.

As he unlocked the door and pushed it open, he turned back around to help lead the other in, but he was hesitant; his hands still gripped the railing, and though he heard the door creak open, he made no move towards it. "Come on," he called after him, taking a step closer. At that, Shota finally shuffled forward a few inches, his fingertips still brushing over the metal before he eventually couldn't reach it anymore.

"Just...give me a moment," he whispered, his hands now reaching in front of him, one of them was grabbed up while the other felt around until he recognized the doorframe. "I got this," he muttered the moment before he crossed the threshold, and drew in a sharp breath as he entered. But, something was off...it didn't give him the sense of safety or familiarity like it was supposed to. It was...foreign. No, this wasn't home, this wasn't his home.

He turned to face Hizashi, and the pallidness of his features was enough for the other to know something was wrong. "What is it?" the blond asked, stepping in after him and looked around, but everything seemed in order, everything was the same as the last time he saw it.

"I don't want to be here," Shota answered flatly, already trying to walk back out.

Hizashi was confused to say the least, and he glanced back into the apartment one more time before pulling the door shut once more and locking it back up. "Ok, we don't have to come here just yet. We can go wherever. So, where you wanna go?" he asked, coming back to his side, ready to lift him up once again.

"I don't care, just not here," he muttered as he was picked up, and he assumed his previous position, arms around the blond's neck as he was carried bridal style back down the stairs.

Taking a deep breath, Hizashi helped him back into the back of the taxi and left him there for a few minutes while he hauled all his belongings back up. As soon as he was done, he slid in next to the dark-haired man and gave him another address to take them, one Shota recognized instantly. He relaxed a bit at the thought of their new destination in mind, and without thinking, leaned closer to the blond's side of the back.

It was only about thirty minutes and they were again coming to a stop. This time the driver was paid so he could finally be on his way. And now, there they stood, right outside of Hizashi's own home. "This better?" he asked. Luckily, there were no stairs to worry about with this one, so that was one obstacle out of the way that they wouldn't have to worry about.

"Yeah," Shota replied, his hand seeking out the other this time around and he was lead right inside. For some reason, this was a lot more comfortable. He'd been here a few times before, yet somehow, it didn't have that distance feel that his place had.

He was lead and helped down to the couch. "I'm going to go make some tea, I'll be right back," the blond said, leaving the other there by himself a moment later. The other nodded and leaned back, trying to make himself as comfortable as possible. The longer he sat there, the more he picked up on this strange scent...not the bad kind of weird, more like an unexpected kind of weird. He was fairly confident that it at the slight aroma of cherries though. He'd never noticed it before, but he wasn't complaining.

His head perked back up at the sound of approaching footsteps and the handle of a steaming cup was guided into his hand. "Careful," he warned. "It's not hot enough to burn, but it still wouldn't feel very nice if you were to spill it."

"Thanks," Shota replied, he carefully brought the rim of the cup to take a tentative sip. It was sweet, but not too sweet.

Hizashi sat next to him, the shift in the couch jolted the man, but he was able to right himself before disaster could strike. "Sorry," the other swiftly apologized. "So, is there a reason you don't want to go home?" he asked, worried that he may have been overstepping his boundaries with that one. But, his curiosity was getting the best of him, and there had to be something more to it. All this time, the man had been dying to get home, and the moment he was, he couldn't leave fast enough.

"I don't know," he muttered, lowering the cup. "It just...it didn't feel right there," he answered vaguely. "I know it was home...but it's not how I remembered."

"What do you mean?"

Shota swallowed thickly. "I guess, I dunno, I guess I was afraid. The one place I know everything about turned into something I'd struggle to navigate. I don't want it turned into that." His voice grew quieter as he spoke, and he again raised the tea to take another drink. The contents swirled dangerously with the trembling of his hand.

"Is that really what you're scared of?" he questioned, his initial reaction now making total sense to him. "Look, I know it's not going to be easy, and no matter where it is, it's going to be rough at first. But, I promise, you'll eventually get used to it, and before you know it, you'll adjust to things. I know it's easier said than done, but I don't have a single doubt that you'll be fine given some time."

"Maybe," the other responded clumsily lowering his cup to the coffee table. A few drops splashed over the edge, but nothing was said about the matter. "Is it alright...if I stay here tonight?" he asked, bowing his head as a few locks fell to hide his face.

The question took the other by surprise a little bit. He couldn't remember the last time he was asked that, maybe when they were in high school, or on the occasion that Shota was out late on patrol and was too exhausted to go back to his place. Hizashi honestly didn't know why he was even asking, the answer should have been obvious. "Yeah, of course," he said. "Need anything from your place? Like clothes or something?" he asked. "Actually, nevermind, some of my stuff should fit you fine," the blond offered, not wanting Shota to go back there if it really did make him that uncomfortable to be around. "You can stay here as long as you want."

Before too long, night rolled around, the two of them hardly left the couch, too busy carrying on with the conversations, whatever it took to take their minds off the things that sucked. They were prepared to go on like this for hours, and probably would have if it weren't for the deep yawn that soon forced itself from the blind hero.

"It's getting pretty late," Hizashi said, glancing at the time. It was already nearly eleven at night. He didn't even realize how much time had gone by. He got up to fetch a couple covers and a pillow for the couch, but stopped himself a few feet away as the memories of the previous night returned to him. Chewing on his bottom lip, he strolled back over and grabbed hold of Shota and pulled him up to his feet. "Come on," he coaxed.

The other compiled, but not without a bewildered expression on his features. "I'm fine sleeping on the couch," he insisted, but sure didn't put up any sort of struggle.

"Nonsense, what kind of friend would I be if I made my guests sleep on that thing," he chuckled, giving the other a slightly stronger tug. "Now come on." Shota cleared his throat nervously, but he trusted him and continued on without question. Even though he was being guided, he still felt the need to shuffle his feet, wanting to make complete certain that he didn't trip over anything at all. "And here we are," the blond said as they finally reached his bed. "It's nothing fancy...but, there's more room than in your sleeping bag, so it should be fine," he said, mumbling the last part.

"I'll be right back, Imma see what I can find for you to sleep in."

"I can just sleep in what I have on though," Shota replied, shrugging it off. "It's really not a big deal." But the other wasn't listening, he was already digging through his closet and soon tossed a t-shirt and some sweatpants at the man. "Need help getting changed?"

He could feel his face heat up, and he really hoped it wasn't noticeable. "I'm blind, not paralyzed," he shot back, waving a hand for the other to step out so he could get ready in peace.

"Ok, ok, no need to get all snippy with me," Hizashi answered in amusement, but stepped out and waited just outside should his assistance be needed. It took a bit longer than it should have, but soon everything was in order and he was allowed back in. "Need anything else?" he asked as Shota climbed under the covers and curled up, quick to make himself comfortable. He shook his head and buried his head farther in the pillow. "Alright then." With that, he turned the light of and climbed onto his own side. Then, he wasn't sure why he did this, unless it was because of the night before, but he draped his arm around the other, surprised that Shota actually shuffled back at the sam time to draw even closer.

"Night…'Zashi," he mumbled into the pillow, letting out a heavy exhale.

"Goodnight," the other replied, moving his head until his chin was resting on top of those dark locks. "And remember, I'll be right here." There was a small hum as a reply, but other than that, there was silence as he swiftly was pulled into the world of slumber.

* * *

 _Everything was so bright, blindingly so, and that ringing, so piercing yet so soft at the same time. It was like a hum in the distance. He raised his hands to block out the worst of the light as he stepped forward, and as he walked, slowly, the lights dimmed. Things were finally becoming visible and he could make out a building, a structure he knew all too well. It was his apartment, Shota rubbed at his eyes until the image cleared the rest of the way, and he blinked a few times in confusion._

" _Hey, you coming or what?" He recognized that voice...it was Hizashi. His attention lifted until he made out his friend standing right outside his door, his hand waving for him to hurry up. Quickly, the blond ducked back inside, and Aizawa glanced around a bit, seeing no one else around before he finally trailed after him._

 _Each step up was so loud, the 'thumps' resounded off the back of his skull, and by the time he reached the top, all of it ceased. All sound came to a stop as he stood there, staring at his now closed door. Curious and bewildered, the hero reached out to grip the handle. The moment his fingers made contact, the door creaked open, dragging a startled gasp out with it._

" _H-Hizashi?" he called out when he was met with darkness, there was nothing that could be seen. Narrowing his eyes, his hand reached around the corner to feel around the wall in search of the light switch. Finally, they ran over it, and he didn't hesitate before he flipped it. His eyes squeezed shut and he winced back at the sudden white light that flooded the area. As his vision was blocked, something else caught his ear...it sounded like crying...like pained sobbing._

" _Hello?" he called out, eyes still closed, but he took a step inside. He took a few more and almost lost his balance when his foot slid on something. He paused and cracked a single eye open. As soon as he did, he felt sick, nausea gripped at his insides nad he had to look away. He didn't see it for long, but he was sure that was blood, there was nothing else it could be. But, when he glanced away, the next thing his attention fell on made that pale in comparison._

" _Hizashi…" he mouthed and took a few steps closer to the blond. He couldn't take his gaze away from the man's face, it was covered with his hands and the same crimson hue painted them. "C-Can you hear me?" he asked, hesitantly getting closer._

 _He could have sworn he heard something being muttered, but he couldn't make out any of the words. It didn't matter though, the other hero continued to repeat it over and over, and eventually he could make out the words. They filtered in his ears and prevented his heart from beating anymore. "It hurts," he said, over and over, his voice getting louder and more desperate and agonized. More blood seeped between his fingers. "Why...why did you let this happen?" he asked between sobs. "Why didn't you help me?" He let out a loud wail, Shota was too shocked, too terrified to respond. He could only stand there and watch the man's suffering unfold before his very eyes._

 _Then, slowly, his hands fell from his face, both were stained horribly. And, without warning, the blond jerked his face towards Shota, his expression was twisted into a mask of unadulterated torment...and his eyes...there was nothing there. "You couldn't save me!"_

* * *

Hizashi jolted awake at the sudden cry next to him, the surprise of it nearly gave him a heart attack as his own pulse pounded in his ears. He was thrust into a temporary moment of panic before realization hit that it was Shota. He was saying something, nearly shouting it in his terror. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he practically sobbed.

It was another nightmare. "H-Hey," he blurted out, his arms already winding there way around the flailing and alarmed form. "Shota, hey, it's alright, calm down," he said quietly, whispering right into the other's ear, afraid that speaking any louder would only make matters worse for him.

He didn't react right away, he was still too fearful of whatever images had been haunting him in the night. All the blond could think to do was pull the man in closer and pray it didn't cause him even more reason to be afraid. "Shhhh," he shushed, one hand reaching around to stroke soothingly over his hair.

Finally, and gradually, the man calmed down, heavy and quick breaths continued to be expelled from his lungs though, and his body was shaking all over. "That's it...everything's alright, I'm right here." He kept running his fingers down the other's locks and whispered the same things over and over again until the quivers finally died down enough for his own comfort. "You're alright," he said one last time, finally releasing the other man. Carefully, Shota turned over to face him, and without a word, he scooted closer to the blond in order to press his face against his chest, silently seeking out the comfort of the other's presence.

"You're fine," he whispered, his voice lost, muffled against Hizashi's shirt. "You're really fine." He sounded relieved more than anything, and now the other hero was seriously wondering what the hell happened in those dreams of his to bring forth such intense and violent reactions. But, he went along with it.

"Yeah, I'm fine, I promise." He placed his chin on top of Shota's head and began to rub small and slow circles on his back, keeping up this pattern until the other began to relax even more and until his breathing evened out. Surprisingly, it didn't take long for him to fall asleep once again. Hizashi didn't dare move; this wasn't the most comfortable of positions, but he would not so much as allow himself to twitch.

He just hoped and prayed that these nightmares were a temporary thing, his mind and body were still adjusting, so it was understandable, but he couldn't stand to see him so scared like that. The way he spoke, it was as if Shota expected him to be dead… Trying not to think about it too much, the blond breathed deeply and slowly blew it back out before closing his eyes back. He probably wouldn't be getting much, but he needed to get some sleep too; he barely had any the last few days, and the bit he finally did get was nowhere near enough.

Fortunately enough, the rest of the night went by without incident. But, just as Hizashi had expected, he didn't get much sleep. He was pretty sure Shota didn't get much either, or at least not much peaceful rest. Even though he didn't wake up again, there were still a few jolts and mutterings that were enough to rouse him back into the waking world.

By the time morning finally rolled around, Hizashi knew there was no way he'd be able to get back to sleep...besides, he had to get to work soon. As much as he wanted to stay here, he couldn't just skip out on work, especially not when they were already down one teacher as it was. Swiping a hand over his face, he eventually sat up after gently working the other man out of his hold. The moment he thought he was in the clear, he went to get up, but a small and sluggish voice pulled him back in.

"You awake?" Shota asked, turning his head in the blond's direction.

"Uh, yeah, about to start getting ready for work."

"What time is it?" the dark-haired hero asked, sitting up himself and scratching the back of his neck.

Hizashi glanced over and read the time off the clock. "Five in the morning."

Shota nodded, then tilted his head as it finally clicked. "Kind of early to start getting ready, isn't it?" he asked. By the sound of his tone, it could have been taken as him just wanting him to stay for a bit longer.

"Maybe, but my hair takes some time," he shrugged, pushing himself out of bed. "You can stay here if you want. I'm going to get coffee started and cook breakfast. You want anything in particular?" he questioned as he reached over and grabbed a hair tie off the side table and tied his hair back. He got a soft 'no' in response as Shota slowly lied back down and pulled the covers back up and over his chest.

"I'll let you know when everything's ready," the blond muttered, still half-asleep as he dragged his feet to the kitchen. He swiftly started the pot of coffee and cooked up some eggs and toast. Nothing too fancy, but he was too tired to do much more than that. Yawning, he set the table and fixed them both a cup of the heavenly beverage and tediously made his way back to the bedroom. "Alright, let's go," he said as he approached. For a moment, he thought Shota to be asleep again, but the slight turn of his head told him otherwise. "Come on, before it gets cold."

Nodding, the other hero eased his way to the edge of the bed and carefully jumped down to his feet. Not a moment later, an arm looped through his, and together they trailed to the table, each of them taking their own seat.

As Hizashi dug in, Shota more or less just pushed everything around with his fork, taking a small bite here and there. But, by the time the blond was done, he hadn't even eaten half of his own. "What, you don't like it?" he asked, his tone light-hearted. "It's fine if you don't, I'm not exactly known for my cooking skills, ya'know."

"No, it's fine...just not that hungry," he sighed, placing his utensil on his plate. "Anyway you should probably be getting ready to go, you don't want to be late." It wasn't bitter, and it wasn't upset, it was just matter-of-fact.

Yet, even so, it weighed heavily on the loud hero's heart. "By the way...the other day, I spoke with Nezu." He didn't say anymore than that just yet, instead he watched Shota's reaction to that. They both knew it would have to be brought up sooner or later, the blind hero's future with UA and what it would hold. Clearly it would never be the same, but it was a subject he really wished they could just forget. "He talked about you coming back or not while you were asleep."

"And?" the other pressed, barely giving the blond enough time to breathe. "I think I already know the answer to that; there's no point in me going back, what more can I do for that place the way I am now."

"Hold on," Hizashi cut back in. "That's not quite what he said. He didn't think the...accident was a reason to drop you from the staff there," he explained, his pulse thrumming in fear and anticipation. "But, we're all in agreement on this. If you want to come back and teach there, no one will have any objections, but we'd all also understand if you don't wish too. However, I honestly think it's what you need most...a sense of normalcy."

Shota thought about it for a moment, and Hizashi noticed the slight paling of his visible features. "I can't," he finally answered, the single word fill, overflowing with self-doubt and sorrow. "What more can I even do for those students? Tell me because I can't think of a damn thing...except one. I can remind them of the risks they're taking by following this path."

His breathing was picking up again, his hands clenched in his lap. "Shot-"

"We both know it's true, we all know it. I can't teach them anything else, I don't have the right to. Why should a hero that failed to save even himself be allowed to lead the future of those kids?" he asked, his voice growing louder. He never gave Hizashi a moment to reply. "Look at me!" he demanded, his hands reaching up to tear the bandages away for the first time since being discharged. The white strips fell to the floor and he raised his head enough for the blond to easily view the scars that marred his face. "How can I face any of them like th-is?" he asked, tone finally quieting as the last word broke.

He couldn't speak for a few seconds, all he could do was open and close his mouth a few times as he tried to come up with how to form coherent words again. "It's alright, you don't have to go back, and no one expects you to so soon, it's really fine," he promised, slowly getting to his feet. And now, he really despised the idea of leaving him alone, but he was running out of time. "But, I still say you should think it over, and take all the time you need to do so. Also, I can without a doubt swear to you that not a single one of your students would see you as a failure."

Hizashi slowly gathered their dishes, and he hardly permitted his attention to drift from the other hero as he slowly settled back down in his chair, he couldn't look away from those marks "Will you be alright while I'm gone?" he asked as he combed his fingers through his long locks. He didn't have time to get everything done now, he'd just have to settle with keeping his hair pulled back for the day.

"I'll be fine…" Shota muttered, his tone absolutely defeated. "Don't worry about me, you should get going though," he added, getting to his own feet as well. Without another word, he began making his way back to the bedroom, his head bowed the whole way. Hizashi had nothing more to say at that moment; there was so much he wanted to throw out there though, but he just couldn't think of the right ways to say those things.

"Dammit," he swore under his breath and glanced at the time. At this rate, he really would be late. "I'll be back as soon as work is over, alright? And if you need anything, I don't care how minor, you cal-" he cut himself off before he could finish that. How the hell was he supposed to do that? "I'll have someone drop by later, alright? So if you need anything while I'm gone, there will be someone coming by." He didn't know if he got a response or not, it was dead quiet. 'Just...please don't do anything stupid,' he thought to himself as he finally built up enough motivation to head towards the door. All he did was continue to tell himself that everything would be alright...it had to be.


	10. The Old Routine

**Beta read by: SinikkavonWolperting and DragonRiderSayomi**

 **Next chapter, here we go. :D Things finally get a little interesting again, and will get a whole lot more interesting in the next chapter. At least, I hope it does anyway...**

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 **Anonimo : Thank ya. And yeah, I asked if people were alright with me turning this into an Erasermic fic. No one objected, so here we are. I will do more in the future that aren't shipping stories.**

 **Anonymous Person : Oh no, they really would not give a single care, they'd just be glad that he was alright...mostly, that is. XD Exactly, but, I can understand the hesitation with going. ;w;**

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For a short time, Shota sat there, still at the kitchen table, the cup of coffee held firmly in his hands long since growing cold. His fingers tapped rhythmically against the ceramic surface, the light drums were the only sounds echoing off the walls around him. But, they fell on deaf ears as his mind was muddled with their earlier conversation. And, even still, he couldn't fathom what they were thinking when they decided he should be allowed back at work. The sheer thought of it was preposterous. What could he even do for them…

He let out a long and heavy breath as his hand was pulled away from the mug before it was curled out on the table for him to lay his head upon. One hand moved to brush some of the stray strands of hair from his face, the tips of his fingers brushed over the scarred flesh as he did so. He couldn't go back there, he just couldn't, it was out of the question. But, at the same time, something in the back of his mind pestered him, nagged him that he needed to. He wanted to know that they were all alright, but he had to hear it for himself that it was true. He just needed to hear their voices again and have them tell him in person.

What the hell was he thinking though, going back there would only show them how weak he had become. He needed to be there, but at the same time, he couldn't. The hero released a low and misery-filled growl as his hand roughly scratched through his hair. Whatever he was going to choose, he had to do it soon. 'I have to,' he finally thought. 'If I don't...they'll do nothing but worry…' His mind went back to Midoriya's and Uraraka's visit when he was still in the hospital, knowing that all felt the same as those two did. If he didn't do this for himself, then he at least had to do this for all of them.

With that, he sat up and he inhaled deeply and held the breath there for a few more seconds. He had to go. His right hand curled into a fist, and with a bit of clumsiness, the man stumbled to his feet. Not that much time had gone by since Hizashi left… Shota wasted no more time and swiftly made his way towards the door, nearly tripping in his haste. All the while, his hands were held out in front of him, making sure he didn't run into anything on the way over.

As soon as he reached it, his fingers wrapped around the handle before he thrust it open and took a single step outside, but he dared not take more than that.

"Hizashi!" he called out, his voice ringing out. His breaths came out in quick pants and he leaned heavily against the doorframe as he waited for a response. The anticipation was swiftly starting to get to him with the silence that followed for a few seconds. "Hizashi!" he called again, a bit quieter this time as his heart thrummed in his chest.

Was he too late? Was he already gone? His breath caught in his throat, the inside burned subtly with the words that refused to spill out. Only an inkling of an exhale streamed out as the next breath in never came. He wanted to go after him, to run after the other, but he knew he really shouldn't. No good would come out of that, he would likely just end up getting lost. Shota swallowed thickly, painfully, as he finally welled up enough courage to call out one more time.

"Hizashi!"

Again, the hero was met with quiet, nothing but the breeze ruffling the bushes answered him back. But, just as he turned to head back in, steps drew closer, and he perked up as they stopped about a foot away.

"What is it?" the blond asked the moment he was over. "Is something wrong?" His voice was laced with worry as he spoke between heavy breaths, clearly from having running over as soon as he heard the other call out his name in what sounded to be distress. "Shota?" He reached out and draped a hand around the man's shoulders.

Clearing his throat, the dark-haired man turned his attention to where he thought the other's face to be. "I...I think I should go as well," he announced, tone unnaturally small and held back with his uncertainty. "I need to go back, I need to know that everyone's alright," he explained. He knew what the blond was about to say next, and he began again before it could be said. "I know...I know they're fine, but that's not enough. Just...take me with you. I'll stay out of the way, I'll even stay in the break room for the entirety of the day if I need to...but I need to go there now." 'I just can't be left alone here,' he thought to himself, keeping that tidbit to himself out of shame. He grew quite with anticipation as he awaited the man's reply.

To be honest, the request did catch Hizashi by surprise. The man, he just got out of the hospital, he had assumed he'd at least want a few days to adjust. Surely this was far too soon for him to be going anywhere. But, looking at the drawn expression of determination on his half-hidden features, he didn't know how he could deny him at a time like this. Taking out his phone to glance at the time, he knew he had to make a choice and fast, or else he'd be late.

"Alright," he finally sighed, clearly not pleased with this outcome. But, maybe it would be fine, maybe he was right and this was just what he needed. "You can come...but, I don't want you to overdo it, understand?" He got a small and subtle nod in response as his face relaxed ever so slightly.

"I understand," he replied, feeling like a child getting permission. He didn't care though, this was enough for him though.

"One more thing. I don't care what it is, please, if anything happens. Even if it's something minor, or you just need to rest or anything, you let me know, or someone else. Ask someone to get me if you have to. That's all I ask." His words were out of genuine concern; however, that didn't stop it from coming across as a bit hovering.

Once more, Shota nodded. "Yeah, I know," he replied, wanting to leave already. And, he didn't wait for the other man to say more before he took it upon himself to take the first few steps. After a couple more, though, he slowed down, more cautions about where he was placing his feet until he stopped altogether and waited for Hizashi to catch up to him. It didn't take long before the familiar touch was strung through his grasp, gripping his hand tightly as it started to lead the way.

As they walked, the blond was sure to be extra cautious of their speed, and he cast his gaze over frequently to make sure his charge was keeping up well enough with him. The last thing he wanted was for the man to trip. "You good so far?" he asked after just a few minutes...he couldn't be too careful.

"I'm fine," he replied, head tilted towards the ground, his hair fell back to completely shield his features from view. By this point, the blond wondered if it wasn't on purpose… After a few more minutes, Shota slowly leaned closer and closer into the other, gradually depending on him more and more ot lead the way and not let him falter.

He had no idea exactly where they were, but he knew they were close now, and it was only a matter of time before they would reach their destination. His heart rate sped up drastically as his nerves finally started to get to him. The nearer they drew, the tighter the hold of doubt had on him. Was he really ready for this? He was just going on about how he couldn't face them like this, he didn't want anyone to see him like this. What the hell came over him so suddenly that urged him to go.

He shook his head to clear it; he was overthinking this.

"You sure you're alright with this?" Hizashi asked when he caught the motion out of the corner of his eye. He cut his gaze over and his brows furrowed. "We can go back if you want, there's no pressure to return so early. Really, it's fine if I'm a little late, I know they'll understa-"

"I said I want to go," Shota cut in, teeth playing with his bottom lip for a split moment. The blond felt the small tightening of the fingers around his own hand, and he returned the gesture. "If...If I don't go through with it, then I'm afraid I never will," he muttered, his fear shining through with blinding intensity. His other hand reached around to grip Hizashi's hand as well to where it was cupped in the both of them.

Well, he tried, but Shota was too stubborn. Once his mind was made up about something, there was no talking him out of it, no matter how hard you tried or how right you were. All he could do from this point was go along with it, be there for him, and hope for the best. Besides, they were almost there, just a few more minutes and they would be standing before the building. He wanted to make this quick, wanted to get in and get Shota situated before any of his students had the chance to spot him.

The moment it was within view, he increased their speed and thought a short apology to the other man for forcing him to keep up with him. "We're almost there," he informed, guiding the dark-haired man around the next and last turn. And, just like that, they were there. Hizashi glanced around, luckily they were able to still get there before the majority of the students. It was mostly other staff members along with a few kids standing around and talking amongst themselves. None of which he recognized as being in the hero program.

Swiftly, he led the blind man to the doors and he pushed through them, the cooler air hitting them as soon as they were over the threshold. "I think it might be best to see your co-workers first," he said, hoping that speaking with them, people who understood his situation most would help ease him back into his former routine.

Shota nodded, but deep down, he dreaded interacting with any of them. Aside from the few, he hadn't even spoken to any of them since… It didn't matter, he couldn't avoid them forever, and he knew this day was bound to come sooner or later, and he supposed it was better to get it over with than drag it out for weeks more.

Each turn they took, he remembered it almost from heart, and they were nearly at the staff lounge now, just a few more step- "Shota?" The said man turned and faced towards the voice on instincts.

"Nemuri," he greeted, lowering his head even farther, now effectively hiding his marred features from sight. He hadn't really thought about it until now...but, Hizashi was the only one to really see what he looked like. In his haste, he had forgotten that his face was now exposed for all to see. He swore internally for having been so neglectful. There was no going back now though. Then his heart stopped as he thought about it even more...he was still wearing Hizashi's clothes. He hadn't even thought to change before barging out.

Thankfully, if she had noticed it, she didn't say anything on the matter. "I-I didn't think you'd be back so soon," she stammered, showing the same shock as the blond had, the two of which had shared a knowing look with one another.

"I wanted to come...I've been away for long enough," Shota replied, leaving it at that, turning back in the direction of the room, intending to head in.

She instantly stepped forward to hold the door open for the both of them and cast a wary look inside before stepping enough to the side to allow them passage. "How have you been, anyway?" the woman asked as the strolled on by.

Entering, he couldn't see or hear them, but somehow, he just knew there were a couple others in the room, and he stood there, awkwardly. "I've been managing," he finally answered, tilting his head slightly to the side. He swallowed thickly as the presence of the others became more clear as they did the same. From that alone he was able to figure out who they were.

"Are you sure this is alright?" came the voice of Toshinori, from just a few feet away, supposedly sitting on the sofa. Shota, trying not to seem too out of place, followed the sound, shuffling his feet along and being far more cautious than he would have liked. Eventually though, and with a little bit of assistance from the number one, he soon made it to the other side of the couch where he had a seat.

"It does look as though those wounds have healed rather nicely," chimed in Chiyo. She was close, and he hadn't heard her saunter over before she was leaning in close, inspecting the scars. Had it been anyone else, and he would have drawn back, but of everyone, he figured she had the most interaction with the injury. "Oh yes, it's looking quite a bit better than I would have expected by now," she muttered mostly to herself. Then, as quickly as she had approached him, she was backing back away.

Still, there was one thing that bothered her, something she chose not to point out; not in front of the others at least. But, she couldn't shake the uneasy sensation she was washed over with as she took in his appearance. It was subtle and easily looked over, but she could see it easily. He was thinner than she remembered.

Hizashi soon took his spot on the other end of the couch, and he looked to be nearly as tired as Shota had. "Well," Toshinori spoke up, breaking the moment of uncomfortable silence, "I have to say, it's good to se- to have you back here," he stammered, offering a smile he knew would never reach the man.

"It feels strange," Aizawa replied, shifting his head just enough to cause more dark curtains to fall into place. By the second, his fingers were digging more and more into his sweatpants; he could feel their eyes on him, all of them. "But, in a way, it feels nice to be here...natural to be back here," he elaborated. It really was weird, like he had done a full one-eighty since the incident. The thought of being alone and by himself, that was no longer something he craved. As long as there were others around him, he was distracted.

"It really was starting to feel a little off while you were away," Nemuri breathed out with a light and pleased chuckle. "Things really aren't the same without you, you know," she shrugged.

Shota could only smile in return, a little forcefully, but it was one that was truly genuine. Then, it was gone just like that before thoughtfulness took its place. "What time is it?" he asked, his apprehension returning tenfold.

"We still have a few minutes," Hizashi replied, reassuring the guy that there was no reason to get so worked up. Everything would be alright. "We can relax for a bit before we start the day," he added, making himself more comfortable as he sat there. His face fell into an expression of ease as the rest of them fell into idle conversation, most of which was flooding the dark-haired man with questions and inquiries. He would have swooped in to save him...but, he didn't seem to be too bothered by them. Most likely because the helped keep his mind on what was about to come.

It wasn't long until the time ticked on, and the inevitable was approaching ever so quickly. Already Chiyo had left, needing to start getting things ready before everyone had arrived. Nemuri, too, soon left the three of them. It was only a matter of time before all of them would need to be on their way. With each exit, there was another reminder that they didn't have a lot of time left.

Once Toshinori left, Hizashi inched a little closer to the other, his hand moving to rest on his shoulder to get his attention. "You ready?" he asked, voice low and encouraging. "It's time to go. Remember, you don't need to stay long, just as long as you feel comfortable with."

"I know," Shota replied, finally raising his head up. "Thank you," he mumbled, leaning his head against the blond's chest as his right arm wrapped around him in a sudden and heartened embrace. "Thank you for bringing me here," he added timidly. Hizashi merely hummed in response as one of his hands ran through the dark locks, the other rested upon the man's back. And, for about a minute, they stayed like that in silence, the blond giving him the time he needed to compose and prepare himself. There was no way this was easy for him, and he couldn't imagine what was going through his head.

"I'm ready," Shota sighed, finally pulling himself away and slowly, he rose to his feet, his mouth set in a minor, yet firm, scowl.

Hizashi was next to him in and instant and he threaded his arm through the other's and began leading the way. As they walked, Shota's heartbeat rang in his ears and thrummed against each and every rib. With every step, the internal rhythm escalated until dizziness started to swarm his head. This was really it. He was almost there, about to stand before his students again.

Then, they came to a stop, and he could only assume that they now stood in front of his class. When the muffled voices from the other side filtered through, it was confirmed. He recognized all of them. Iida, Uraraka, Bakugou...all of them, he could pick out each and every voice. He swallowed the thick lump in his throat, Hizashi's hand left his arm and moved to the small of his back. Gently, he gave Shota a small press, urging him forward.

He took one last deep and steadying breath, and slowly, he moved his hand to brush over the hand, the familiarity of it sinking in for only a second before he finally pulled it to the side. He was sure his heart stopped along with the commotion inside. It was deathly silent inside the class now. A few murmurs echoed from among the students, but that was it. His breath caught in his chest, but he willed himself to take the first step inside, and he refused to raise his head more than a few inches as he entered.

"Good morning...everyone," he said, his voice slightly raspy from his nervousness, a slight tremble underneath his words.

"A-Aizawa-Sensei," he heard the voice of Asui, her worry tangible in his name. "Is it really alright for you to be here?" she asked.

He said nothing as he made his way to the front, needing his full concentration so as not to trip on his way over. He tried desperately not to be too obvious as one of his hands always stayed a bit in front of him to keep from running into anything. Eventually, though, he made it to the podium and he instantly gripped the sides of it to hold himself up before his anxiety caused him to crumble on the spot.

"There's no need to concern yourself," he assured, bowing his head in a slight nod. "I appreciate it though, but it's not necessary." He turned his attention towards Hizashi, silently asking the other for some time alone. The blond compiled, and uttered a quiet 'I'll be back shortly,' and there was something about errands in there as well. With that, the screech of the door being pulled closed reached the other hero's ears and he took a deep breath as he was now standing alone in front of his class.

"It's been a while," he started, voice quivering, and he knew damn well the kids could hear it. He wished with everything he had that he could control it a bit better. He had no idea what to say, he hadn't thought about anything beyond the point of walking in here. And, now that he stood there, he didn't have a single clue as to where to start. "I'm sure many of you have questions. Midoriya, at least, has mentioned everyone's burdened minds. So, I guess I'm here now to clear the air and inform you all that yes, I'm alright." He said that, but the sincerity in his tone was lacking, like it was nothing more than empty words.

He caught the slight movement of one of the kids before a clear voice filled the air. It had to have belonged to none other than the class representative. "Sensei...does this mean that you'll be coming back to teach?" he asked, always one to cut right to the chase.

If he was being honest, he really couldn't say. "We'll see," he replied shortly and lowly. "But, that's all in due time. For the time being, I don't think that will be for the best. Not until things have settled down, for all of us," he clarified, not wanting to leave them with such an uninterested answer. They wanted more than that, they had gone days with no info most likely. It would have been cruel to leave them empty-handed.

 _And now, who will protect those precious students of yours?_

Shota shook his head as the intrusive thought grated against his mind. Where the hell was that coming from? Why was he remembering that godforsaken dream now of all times? An involuntary gasp slipped from his mouth and his hand reached up to grip the side of his head.

"Aizawa-Sensei?" Uraraka questioned, her voice cutting through like a knife, and he instantly lifted his head on instincts. "Are you alright?" she asked, noticing the slight paling of his face as it came into view.

"I'm fine," he replied without hesitation, the word coming out almost snippily. "I...I'm alright," he said calmer, and took in a shuddering breath. Already, he could feel a bead of sweat roll down the side of his face. He was getting too worked up over nothing. "Just...it's nothing," he muttered, trying to straighten himself up a bit more. And there it was again, the murmuring that clouded the room. It was clear...even they could tell, he wasn't the same.

This was what he feared the most, the fact that those that trusted him to protect them would no longer see him as such. Instead, he was fragile, the one in need of sheltering. He hated it, he absolutely despised it.

 _That's right...there's not a damn thing you can do for them anymore._

His hands were shaking now, even gripping the wood as tightly as they were, a tremble wracked through them. No...that wasn't true, he knew it wasn't, it was all lies. His breaths quickened, and chest tightened. His mouth dried and he leaned into the podium, afraid that his knees were about to give out from underneath him, right on the spot.

His name was called a few more times, their voices growing more troubled with every call of his name. "I...I'm," he stuttered, his words sticking to his throat every time they tried to roll out. "...fine," he mumbled. He said that, but it didn't make a damn difference. He was still growing more anxious standing in front of them all, showing his weakness so openly to them.

"Do you need to sit down?" he heard Ashido ask, a few more agreeing. "You don't look so good," she added, the sound of her chair screeching as she stood to her feet with the intention of heading his way.

"I said I'm fine," he snapped, exhales now heavy and hasty.

He regretted it the moment that stunned inhale struck him, like a dagger through his heart.

 _The man who was sworn to protect them, to show them the way, reduced to this…_

He was right, Caustic was right...What had he turned into? His head swam with disorientation...everything was so dark, he wasn't sure which way was which anymore. It was unbelievably hot, too hot, he couldn't stand it. The intolerable temperature closed in around him, searing him from the inside, and he could feel it the worst around his eyes. He raised his hands to cover them, trying to alleviate the sensation as best he could.

"Dammit," he muttered, the feeling of intense searing across his face all too real. The student's voices were starting to blur and merge into one. He couldn't tell one from another anymore. He didn't know what was going on around him, but he was pretty sure he was no longer standing as his orientation was challenged and everything was no longer making any sense. But, his hands were still gripping the wood, he could still feel it held tightly in his grasp.

He really did need to sit down, if he didn't he was afraid he'd pass out right there. He didn't know if anyone was talking anymore though, he couldn't hear anything over the pitched ringing in his ears. He couldn't breathe, everytime he tried to draw in breath, it just made the tightness in his chest more painful before his body forced it back out. Everything, every part of him was refusing to cooperate with anything he asked of it.

Slowly, with his hands running down the side of the podium, he carefully maneuvered himself until he was sitting on the floor. Unfortunately, it helped nothing. The darkness was still closing in on him, suffocating him. His hands soon moved to cover his ears in a desperate attempt to shield them from the taunting voice in the back of his head.

He shouldn't have come here, he shouldn't be here, all of this was a huge mistake. He wanted to get out of here, but he couldn't move. Heavy and heated breath ran down the back of his neck and he waited for the pain to come. He sat there in anticipation, knowing the searing agony that was to follow, and his heart was bursting in preparation. Then, he felt it, the hand that landed on his shoulder, and his body acted on its own. He jerked away, his left hand slapped out to knock the offending contact away.

"Don't touch me!" he snapped, breath seething between clenched teeth. He took in a few more deep breaths before things gradually began to come back to him...the mumbles of the people around him, the hurt and confused gasps that sounded out.

"Aizawa-Sensei…" Iida muttered, his voice being the closest to him, and it was then Shota realized what was going on, what he just did.

He instantly turned his face towards the floor in shame and embarrassment and cleared his throat. "S-Sorry. I don't…" he let out a shaky breath, holding back a strained sob of distress, "I don't know...what came over me," he apologized, shame taking him in its clutches.

"Someone, go get Yamada-Sensei," Iida instructed. He couldn't say for himself what exactly was going on, but he knew well enough this was something that was out of their control. "Do you need anything?" he asked, crouching down to kneel in front of the teacher, who still refused to turn in his direction.

Shota quickly shook his head, which was still muddled. "No," he replied, tone soft. "I just need...to go," he added, trying to get back to his feet, but everything was still swirling too much for his liking.

"What happened?" Hizashi asked, his voice sounding out as soon as his steps echoed into the room. The students quickly parted to the sides to allow him room to get by. Within just a couple seconds, he was on his knees next to the other hero, his hands cupping either side of his face and he brought it up to face him. "Shota?" he whispered, speaking to the man as if all the others weren't there. He needed the guy to focus on him and only him. "Hey...it's alright," he mumbled, casting a quick look around and took one of his hands to wave around, signalling for them to give the two of them some space.

"Zashi…" Shota replied, and without hesitation, without care or consideration for the presence of others, he pressed himself into his hold. "I think I'm ready to leave now," he mumbled into his chest, shame and humiliation carrying his words out.

"Ok, alright, we can go back to the lounge if you want," he whispered, draping an arm under Shota's to help him get to his feet. "Come on," he encouraged as they took that first step. Hizashi then looked to the students, all of which had taken their seats once more, and he offered them a small nod of apology before leading the two of them back out. "It's alright...you can't expect things to just be back to normal, it's nothing to be upset over," he spoke softly.

Shota said nothing, he kept his attention down and focused solely on placing one step in front of the other and keeping his breathing even. He wanted nothing more than to curl up in a corner and forget any of this ever happened. Was that too much to ask?

Soon enough, the reached the lounge, and he was led straight to the couch and Hizashi helped him to lay down. "I can't stay long, I have to get back to my class soon. I'm already about ten minutes late," he said.

"You can go ahead," Shota assured, flipping himself over to face towards the back of the couch. He brought his knees up as much as the limited space would allow and pressed himself as close to the cushions as possible. "I promise, I'll be right here when you get back," he said. There was no intention of even moving from that spot, not after what happened.

Hizashi blew out a weary breath and pushed himself out of his crouched position. "What happened in there?" he asked, needing to know. Everything was fine when he left, and then the next thing he knew, Kaminari was racing towards him, fear in his eyes as he demanded he come back to the class. And then, there Shota was…

"I don't know," he answered honestly, wishing he had a real reply. "I...guess I was just overwhelmed," he guessed, surprisingly balling himself up even more. "I thought that it would be alright. I assumed that knowing the three of them were in custody, that everything would be fine, but...it's not."

The blond opened his mouth to respond, but froze part way. Something in what Shota said confused him and caused his heart to plummet at the same time. "Wait...three?" he asked, voice tense with dread.

At the tone, the other craned his neck. "Yeah, there were three of them," he repeated, making sure he was clear about that.

"Shota...there was only two when we arrived," he informed. "A-Are you sure you're remembering right?" he asked, hoping that his memories were just jumbled or warped.

"I'm sure," he replied sternly, clearly offended that he would be questioned about that. "I think I would know how many were there, Hizashi," he added, swiftly sitting up, his face now directed right at the blond. For a moment, he swore Shota was really looking right at him. Muttering a small apology, Hizashi placed a light and comforting hand on his friend's shoulder and gave him a light push, easing him back until he was leaning against the back of the couch.

He took a deep breath and lowered his gaze. "Don't worry...I'll talk to the others about it later," he promised. Though, chances were, with what went down, his comrades getting captured and all, it was unlikely he'd still be around the city anywhere. A part of him was more than a little pissed about the idea of one of those bastards getting off scot free, but there wasn't much he could do about it with the limited information they had.

"Yeah," the dark haired man muttered, slowly lying back down on his side. This time, he didn't turn away as he curled back up. "You can go back to work now...I'm alright here," he assured, this time the promise coming off as genuine. "Just...just let them know that I'm alright. ...And that I'm sorry for what happened back there," he muttered lowly, his shame on full display for the other to witness.

The other didn't know what else to say, didn't think there was even anything else he could say. Shota just needed to be alone for a bit, and he just hoped that would be enough for the time being. Pushing himself up to his feet, he cast one last concerned glance at Shota before slowly sauntering away.

"If you need anything, then everyone is here for you," he reminded, his tone quiet and soothing. "I'll be back once first period is over. You sure you're good here alone?" he asked, already knowing the answer. And, there it was, the barely conscious nod of Shota as he again turned to face the back of the couch. Sighing, Hizashi dropped his gaze and finally made his leave. He was right, taking him here so soon was nothing but a mistake.

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 **Hoping to be able to wrap this one up within the next chapter or two. And, of course, I do have future fics planned. ;D**


	11. Don't Shut Us Out

**Beta read by: SinikkavonWolperting and DragonRiderSayomi**

 **Sorry this one is shorter than the others, but I wanted to end on a cliffy~**

 **Anyway, hope you enjoy, and I imagine this story is starting to get stale, and I promise it'll be done in another chapter or two. Gonna try to have it finished in the next if I can though.**

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Shota wasn't sure how long he was lying there, and he didn't care. His mind kept going to the same place. Over and over again, he thought back to the one they called Golem...he was still out there somewhere, doing who knew what. Maybe he ran off though. With his accomplices in custody, what was even left for him? What did the other two mean to him? But, those weren't the voices and mutterings that set him on edge, it was what Caustic had told him in his dream.

"All you can do is stand by and listen to their cries, their screams, as one by one, they are picked off."

That was right, what if he went after his students? Deep down, he knew that was foolish, it was just a dream, none of them had ever mentioned a single word about the kids, and there was no real reason to fear for them. At this point it was one against twenty. And that wasn't including all the other teachers and staff willing to put their lives at risk for their sake. He took a deep breath and finally rolled back over to sit up. They'd be alright...he was just too paranoid. But, no one would blame him for that, not after all that had happened these last few days.

The hero tilted his head back until he was facing the ceiling. He just wanted to go back home and forget all of this. As he sat there, his fingers drifted back to his eyes, the tips of them ran over the now rough surface...it was so numb, but he could make them out...the spots where… He snatched his hand away and dropped it to his side with a soft growl of frustration.

"You alright?"

Shota jolted, the feminine voice caught him by surprise. When did Nemuri walk in? He tried not to let that bother him too much, but to be honest, the fact that someone had slipped in without his knowing so easily...it was rather unnerving."Fine," he replied, the tightness of his voice betrayed his words. "I take it you heard what happened in there," he commented. It wasn't a question, he knew she heard. He was sure everyone had heard by now with the way things spread around this place.

She only hummed in response, it was a sad, yet understanding, sound. "I heard all your students were scared to death," she said comfortingly. "And, you know they care about you. You don't need to feel like any less of a hero because of it. Every single one of us are honestly impressed about the fact that you came here so soo-"

"It doesn't matter," he cut in, bite in his tone. "It doesn't mean shit what anyone else thinks. I hate to say it, but others' opinion about all this won't do anything." He took a shuddering inhale, his fingers dug into the fabric of his pants. 'Why do I always do this?' he asked himself. The instant regret for snapping at one of his friends stung deep in his chest. She was just trying to help, just like everyone was. But...he didn't want the help, he didn't want to need it.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, head tilted down as he unconsciously hid his features from view. "I shouldn't have…"

"It's alright," the woman replied, not missing a beat.

"It's not though," he replied, all bitterness gone from him now. "I know...I know people just want to be there, but…" He took a deep breath. Where was he even going with this? "It shouldn't be that way," he said at last. It was barely audible, but it was loud enough for Nemuri to catch it.

Now, it was her turn to grow silent for a moment. "You're right," she said, completely serious. The sound of the reply was surprising...all of the previous sympathy occupying her had fled with that statement. "It shouldn't be this way. It shouldn't because none of this should have ever happened." He couldn't be sure, but was that a twinge of guilt peeking through? Surely she wasn't blaming herself as well. He already had to deal with Hizashi doing this. Were they all putting this on themselves?

"This is no one's fault," he muttered before she could think on it anymore. "All of you need to realize that."

"If we do, then you need to realize that you're not a damn bit different than you were before all this," she shot back. The conviction in those words instinctively caused Shota to turn her way, to face directly towards her. "You are the only one that's thinking any less of yourself." He swallowed the painful lump in his throat at the way her voice wavered towards the end, but she wasn't done yet. He didn't get to reply before, to his astonishment, he was pulled in, arms wrapped tightly around him. "You need to stop letting this control who you are," she whispered, ignoring the slight tremble that spilled out from the form.

He leaned his head against her shoulder, no longer caring about his own pride. It was too much, one could only hold it together for so long. She could feel his uneven and shuddering breaths against the side of her neck, but she said and did nothing about it, just continued to hold him close. And, she'd remain like that for as long as it took.

After a few minutes, his exhales finally evened out, and he took a few deep ones to help chase away the remnants of the shuddering. But, he didn't make any move to pull away. "I know," he muttered, voice hoarse. "I know I do...but I fear it's just not possible."

Nemuri removed her hands from his back and instead placed them on either of his upper arms to lead him a few inches away to the point where she could look him in the face. "It is, you just need you need to let people in...this isn't a burden for you to bear alone. The sooner you accept that, the better and faster you can truly heal."

Shota calmed himself down...and surprisingly, he didn't feel quite as awkward as he thought he would after having shown such weakness like that in front of another, in front of someone other than Hizashi. He didn't know where it came from, but in a way, it was relieving and satisfying to finally get it out of him.

"Thank you," he muttered, pulling away completely to lean back once more.

"Don't mention it," she replied, placing a hand on his shoulder. She looked over to the door to find the blond standing there, leaning against the doorframe as he watched on. He dared not to utter a single word while the scene wrapped up, his gaze flicked from her to the dark-haired man before he cleared his throat to let them both know he was there.

Hizashi took a few steps in to stop just in front of Shota. "I'm finished for the day if you're ready to go," he said softly, pretending as though he saw nothing.

"Yeah," the other mumbled, on his feet in the next instant. "I think I'm ready to go home now," he added, the underlying message clear. Home, his actual home. He strolled closer and held out his hand, waiting for it to be claimed by the other man. It wasn't long before it was gripped tightly as he was slowly pulled along to follow. Even still, the blond kept the pace slow and reasonable.

Hizashi hummed and turned to offer a small and appreciative nod to the female hero while he led Shota out. The understanding between the two of them was silent. "You sure you're ready to go back there?" he asked, just to make sure. Last time they tried to go there, Shota didn't even walk all the way in before he changed his mind. He had given up without ever giving returning a real shot. But, a lot had happened today, maybe it was enough to help him take those first few steps he needed to take. They may not have been the most easy or the prefered way, yet it may have given him a much needed push in the right direction.

Most of the walk was spent in complete silence, Shota wasn't up for talking, and every single time Hizashi had tried to kick up some sort of conversation, it either wasn't returned or Shota answered in short and vague replies. All he could do was take that as a cue that he just didn't want to talk. He couldn't blame him though.

"We're almost there," he informed, the apartment now in sight. When they reached the stairs, the blond went to wrap an arm around his waist, to assist him and get a better hold of him to prevent any incidents from occurring; however, the touch was swiftly brushed away. The action, though, was actually rather gentle.

"I've got this," Shota assured, straighten up and raising his head as he took the first stair. Despite his determination, a slight tremble traveled down his legs and through his arms. The railing was held in a death grip and his breaths puffed out a few degrees quicker than normal 'It's just stairs,' he reminded himself. 'You can't always count on others to take care of you...they won't always be around.' That was right, he couldn't' expect others to change up their day to day life for his sake. They all had their own lives they had to get back to...and he wasn't willing to allow them to sacrifice anything anymore. It didn't matter what Nemuri said, and he knew damn well that he couldn't completely do everything on his own yet, but he had to put forth the effort. She was right about one thing for sure though...he was still him, and he was capable of completing simple tasks.

The going was slow, and there was a stumble here and there, but Hizashi was right behind him the whole way should he not catch himself in time. Fortunately, there was no need for him to step in. Or, not until they reached the top and were standing before his door. He may have made it there on his own, but he doubted he'd be able to unlock his door just yet.

Shota bowed his head slightly and muttered a small thank you. Again, he only made it a few feet in and stopped. Although, this time, he didn't turn around just yet, and the blond remained quiet, giving the other all the time he needed. He'd go farther in when he was ready, there was no use in trying to push him. Though it took longer than either of them would have cared for, he eventually did take a few more steps and let out a heavy breath.

"You can come in, you know," he called back. The message under the statement clear to Hizashi that he wanted him to follow after him. He stood there, unmoving until he was sure Hizashi was next to him. Only then did he risk navigating around, and the first place he drifted towards was the couch. His feet were shuffled, and though it pained the blond to bare witness to this style of movement, he knew he shouldn't step in.

Without an idea of what else to do, Hizashi took a seat next to him and leaned back. For a while, the overbearing silence lingered, stagnating the air until it was hardly tolerable anymore. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, he quickly clamped it back shut and his eyes widened as Shota leaned over to lay his head against him.

"I don't know how you do it…" he mumbled. His head was turned in a way that his voice was slightly mumbled against the blond's sleeve.

"Do what?" Hizashi asked, needing clarification.

Shota readjusted himself, pressing himself closer to the other while he prepared himself to answer. "Put up with all this," he finally got out. "I know this isn't easy for any of you guys either, but somehow...you've managed to stay so positive about it all." He turned his head to where it was staring up at the other. "I honestly don't know if I would be able to get through this without you." It was low, almost inaudible.

Hizashi was taken aback. What the hell was he talking about now? "W-What?" he stuttered with a nervous chuckle. "I hope you know how wrong you are about that, Shota. About all of it. I may seem like I'm calm and collected on the outside, but on the inside…" he let out a small laugh that was void of all humor, "I'm freaking the hell out half the time!" The subtle jolt that jostled the form against him caused him to let out a minor gasp of regret. "I didn't mean it like that...just...I'm worried is all. But, you should know, with or without me, you'd be able to get through it fine. I know that because I know you, and I know you're strong, and you are in no way a quitter."

The raven flinched, but said nothing; he did nothing other than lean his head back down as an arm was draped around him, pulling him in closer.

"I don't know what I did to deserve you," he muttered, under his breath. It was almost as though he didn't want it to be heard by anyone else. But, it was definitely caught by the blond, and he couldn't prevent the smile that crept onto his features.

"You didn't have to do anything."

Hizashi leaned his head to the side, enough so to rest it atop those dark locks. Slowly, the hand that was wrapped around Shota shifted so he could reach his hair. Gently, he ran his fingers through as his other hand trailed down to take Shota's hand. "Trust me when I say this, but I'm here right now because I really wanted to be, and there was nothing you could have done or can do that will ever change that."

Shota didn't respond, he didn't have anything to say to that, it was a relief, and a huge one. Though he still didn't quite understand the way the man thought, or the way he worked, it was appreciated, more than appreciated. He wasn't sure if he would ever be able to put it into words, but deep down, he knew Hizashi was aware of just how much he meant to him. There was no need to ever voice it, it was just something they both understood.

'My, how the mighty Eraserhead has fallen' Even now, those damn taunts wouldn't allow him any peace of mind. But, as he lied there, body leaned against the man that had been with him through this so far, the one that would always be by his side, he willed those mutterings to the back of his mind. He was sick of them, and he wasn't willing to allow them to take hold of him anymore. Shota pressed his head harder against the blond and honed in on the sound of his heart beat...everything was fine now.

For hours, they didn't move, and they would have stayed that way for as long as they were able if it weren't for the fact that they needed food at some point, much to both of their dismay.

"I think I'll go out and pick something up," the blond offered, but made no move to actually get up. He glanced down, and it was difficult to tell if Shota was still awake or not. He hadn't twitched or muttered a word in a while. If he was really asleep, then the thought of waking him was hardly something he considered, but at the same time...well, he couldn't very well just leave him alone with telling him first.

Taking a deep breath and quickly making up his mind, Hizashi mumbled a soft, "Hey, Shota?" The reaction he received was almost instant, the other jolted and sat upright, clearly having just been woken from his slumber. "Sorry, but I'm about to go pick us up something to eat…" he repeated. "Do you want to come along, or would you rather stay here?" he asked, unsure which he would prefer himself.

He had to take a few seconds to consider, and to be honest, neither of those options sounded ideal to him. Couldn't they just have something delivered...that way he didn't have to go anywhere, nor would Hizashi have to leave. Even if it would have been for only a few minutes or so, he really didn't want that.

"You can go ahead, it'll be faster," he finally answered casually. "I'll be fine here, it won't be long anyway," he added, wanting Hizashi to be sure that it really wasn't that big of a deal. Or, he didn't need to know that it was a little bit of a deal anyway.

The blond was hesitant, clearly and for good reason, but he fought against himself and nodded subtly. "Alright, I'll be back shortly then. Anything in particular you want?"

Slowly, the dark-haired hero shook his head as he leaned away to allow the other to get up. He released a quiet breath of disappointment as the arm was removed from around him, but he mentioned nothing of it. "Just, whatever you get is fine." He leaned back and made himself comfortable. "Really, it's alright, I promise I'll still be right here by the time you get back," he joked light-heartedly.

"Yeah, I know," the other sighed. "Ok, be back in a few then," he said once more, sounding as though he were telling himself that more so than anyone else. Shota said nothing at them so he took that as his cue to go ahead. Begrudgingly, the blond sauntered closer to the door and took one more wary glance behind him before finally seeing himself out. Why was he so worried? Shota was a grown man, not a child, he could handle being alone for a few minutes. He needed to stop worrying about the guy so much. Underneath all that concern, he knew the hovering would do nothing but drag the man down farther.

The moment Hizashi was gone, Shota fell deathly silent, perfectly matching the room around him. Already, it hadn't even been a minute, and it was starting to wear him down. It was so strange, normally, he would have killed for some peace like this, but lately, it was unnerving and unwanted.

He needed something to break the quiet, anything would do, and without realizing he was doing it, his fingers were tapping furiously against the arm of the couch. Soon the steady and rhythmic noise filled the area and slightly calmed his nerves. Not nearly as much as he would have cared for, but it was something. Hizashi wasn't going to be gone long, and he was going to have to start getting used to being alone sooner or later; he couldn't go the rest of his life depending on others always being there just for the sake of making him feel safer in his own skin.

Not a lot of time had passed before there was a knock at his door. It was quiet, and not a moment later, it creaked back open. "What, forget your wallet?" Shota half chuckled in amusement, but it wasn't returned. There was not another word spoken from the other as a step forward caused the hero to perk up.

"Zashi?" he questioned, heart beating a million times a second. Without putting any thought into it, he was on his feet and stumbled back to get some distance between himself and whoever the hell this was.

Again, there was another step forward, it was heavy and heading right towards him.

"Hey!" he called out again, losing his patience as well as his wavering composure. "W-Who are you?" he stuttered, voice quiking with uncertainty.

Still, silence, nothing other than the intruder's weighted breaths and heavy steps as he sauntered closer, faster. Shota took another step back, his chest tightened in fear and anticipation. In desperation, and with nowhere else to go, Shota tried to dart to his left. He knew full well that it wouldn't make much of a difference, but what else was there to do?

He didn't know what he was expecting. To manage to slip by? To buy himself a few more seconds? Whatever it was, it was nothing short of a failure. His foot barely had time to be placed on the floor before an arm slithered around his chest and arms and reeled him in close. Shota released a startled and pained gasp as the breath was squeezed out of him. They were strong, there was no doubt about that.

At last, for the first time, the other man spoke, and the hero's pulse ceased at the familiarity of it. His blood ran cold.

"This is for my comrades."

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 **Hope you enjoyed and look forward to the final installment. :D Of course, I have more stories planned, maybe not as intense as this one, but they are more painful ones.**


	12. The Aftermath

**Beta read by: SinikkavonWolperting and DragonRiderSayomi**

 **This is it, it's the last chapter. ;w; It was a fun ride and I thoroughly enjoyed it from start to finish, and hope others did as well. It was my first BNHA story, and I do plan on writing at least a few more, all of which will be full of angst, so hope people would like to stick around for that. ;D**

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He couldn't breathe, and he didn't know if it was from the immense pressure against his chest or his suffocating fear for his own life, but it was disorienting. Haziness teased and carressed the edges of his conscious mind as the grip traveled closer to his neck. Out of instincts, the hero kicked back, despite knowing it wouldn't have made a damn difference. Slowly, he was lifted off the floor, his feet now hovered just a few inches above it.

'Hizashi!' he cried out in his head, but couldn't sound out a single syllable through the strangled breaths. He was losing consciousness fast...he had to do something, anything, and quickly before it was too late. There was no one to save him this time...it was all on him. If he failed, then this was it, he was done for.

"Stop fighting, it's no use," Golem mumbled, his hot breath brushed over his ear. If it weren't for the fact that he was in the situation he was, he would have shuddered from the disgust of the whole thing.

Shota tried to reply, but the only thing that was forced from his lungs was a strangled cry. Both hands shot up to grip at the villains arms, his nails tried to dig into the flesh, but he was making no progress. He attempted to pry the offending limb away to no avail.

Nothing he was doing was working though. He couldn't outpower the brute, not like this, anyway. But, things - his senses - were swiftly slipping from his grasp, and his body just took over on its own as he activated his quirk without another thought. The initial sensation was nothing short of painful, it burned, like hell itself was spreading and radiating from his eyes. This was the first time he's even used it since then, and he had no idea what to expect. He didn't deactivate it though as the burning and searing slowly throbbed away. There was still a slight sting, but it was nothing too intolerable.

It wasn't perfect...but, he could see things, nothing too definitive. _He could see._ It was remarkable, he was shocked, relieved, all of the emotions that came along with it coursed through his mind, not that he had the time to dwell on any of them with that arm so crushingly bound around him. It was just simple and basic shapes and colors. Still, the fact that anything was in view at all was enough to give him a bit of an edge. To his right, he could barely make it out, but he was certain that's where his shelf was...it looked to be just within his reach too. The chances of him being able to fight back and succeed were almost nonexistent, but damn he had to try. Risking taking one hand away, not that it was helping matters anyway, the hero grabbed a hold of the first thing he could. Whatever it was, it was heavy. The moment it was in his hand, there was no hesitation before he flung it back and over his head.

A loud crash echoed off the walls, followed closely by the brutes hiss of pain. Then, to his relief, the pressure from around his neck was loosened, giving him enough leeway to slip out of the larger man's grasp. His breaths came in deep and panted. Everything was still a haze, but it was slowly ebbing away, not nearly as quickly as he would have cared for though.

He took in just a few more shuddering breaths before he was moving again, his quirk still switched on as he ran. Those stairs, the ones that were once so terrifying to him were now taken nearly two at a time in his haste. He couldn't believe it...he was running away from the guy, someone he should have been able to take down so easily. But, what choice did he have? He was stuck without full use of his most important sense and without a weapon. The best thing he could do right now was find someone else who was better equipped for something like this.

His lungs burned, but it didn't compare to the throbbing that was starting to develop in his head just behind his eyes. And, the longer he had his quirk activated, the worse it got. He couldn't let go of it yet though, if he did, he'd just get completely lost. He didn't even know if he was being pursued, he could hear nothing over the thrumming of his own heart.

Unfortunately, his wonderings were answered as a strong grasp clasped around his wrist before he could even get a few yards from the apartment. 'Dammit!' he thought to himself, already struggling to loosen the hold on him to no avail. It was useless, and he damn well knew there was no wriggling out of this. His teeth bared, he released a frustrated and pained hiss when he was yanked back, the other man clearly trying to drag him back.

"Stop making this harder than it has to be," Golem ground out under his breath, hand tightening.

This couldn't be happening, this couldn't be true. It had to be a dream, it just had to be; nothing more than all his stress and worries wound up into one sloppily packaged nightmare. He desperately wanted to believe that to be the case, but it was impossible with the growing fear and pain that he was being put through. Still, his quirk was activated, and slight shapes and colors were managing to filter through. What good that was doing him now, he had no idea.

Was this really how he was going to die? After going through all of that, after surviving and putting all those he cared about through hell because of him, he was going to have it all be for nothing in the end after all. He almost wanted to laugh at the irony and absurdity of it all. And, he would have if it weren't for the crushing pressure bearing against his ribs.

Shota wasn't sure if it was the lack of oxygen or the events of the last week finally catching up to him and finally hitting him, but something in him snapped. That need to live and fight back refused to allow him to give up here, not after it all. However, the one thing that continued to pop up into his mind was Hizashi...what the hell would he do if something happened to him. Of course, he was concerned about the kids as well. But, they were still young, they weren't ...the children would eventually get over it with him. He doubted the same could be said about Hizashi though.

Taking a deep breath, and uttering a silent prayer to himself, the hero thrust his head back with all the strength he had. There was a small swell of satisfaction at the grunt that sounded out immediately after. Sure, there was a bit of discomfort from the collision on his end as well, but it was nothing compared to what he was sure the other was feeling right about now.

That was all he needed for the grasp to once again give some leeway. The only difference was, this time, there was no running away...he was through running. That wasn't who he was. Nemuri was right...there was nothing different about him, and he was sick of letting all of this control him. Shota didn't allow the villain time to recover before he spun around and kicked his right leg upward. His vision may have been blurry, but it was just enough to make out the guy's head. Just like that, he felt the impact travel up his leg as Golem staggered to his side, letting out a low and rage filled hiss as he did so.

It was so natural, like second nature at this point. It was one kick after another, one hit after the other without much pause. By the end of it, his breaths were coming out in heated pants, his arms were positively trembling and his head was throbbing up a storm. He had no idea how much time had passed, everything was merging together, compressing into no more than a single elongated second. However long it was, it was clearly starting to take a toll, having his quirk active for that long. Now that the initial adrenaline was seeping away, the strain it caused was crashing down on him.

The hero took a few unsteady steps back, but he never took his attention from the enemy...the unmoving intruder as he put some space between the two of them. He let out a couple dry and choked coughs, trying his best to hold back the gags that threatened him. The nausea was gradually getting more intense, and the constant pulsing in the back of his skull wasn't doing him any favors.

Before too long, he couldn't fight it off any longer; his power was something that was no longer a thing that could be easily tolerated. Bile burned the base of his throat, and in a split moment, he was deactivating his quirk and staggering a few feet away before dropping to his hands and knees.

He prayed silently to himself that no one was here to witness any of this between heaves. Each one only served to further the agony in his head, there was nothing he wanted more than for it to just go away. And, he knew damn well this was the result of overusing his quirk like that...especially for so long and not even for the purpose it was originally intended for. Once he was sure he was done, he waited for a few more seconds, wanting to be absolutely sure that nothing else was coming up...not that much had to begin with.

Just as he was about to stand straight, the slightest touch that brushed against his shoulder was enough to trigger his flight or fight reaction, and he was on quite the streak of carrying out the latter. There was no hesitation as he spun around, hair flaring up as he swung with his right fist. To his surprise and horror, it was caught this time. But, the moment he instead retaliated with the left, he froze...this shape was different. It was smaller, and he could vaguely make out the shade of gold.

"'Zashi?" he questioned as locks of black fell back against his features. Along with it returned the utter and unrelenting darkness.

"What the hell is going on?" he asked, taken aback when the dark-haired man let out a relieved chuckle and more or less threw himself at him. The blond didn't know how to react when his eyes wandered again to the unconscious heap of a man just a few feet away. Did Shota do that? He blinked in confusion a few times and was about to ask again when his attention then drifted to the mess not much farther away...where he had just seen him down on all fours.

"Are you alright?" he asked instead, his worry easily outweighing his curiosity.

"I'm fine."

"For some reason, I don't believe that."

Shota didn't reply for a while, but eventually, he did peel himself away from the other. "I-I'm not sure...he just showed up, I didn't know what else to do," he muttered almost apologetically. Though, Hizashi had no earthly idea what he had to be sorry for. As far as he could tell, he did a phenomenal job. That's when it hit him...when Shota had turned on him like that.

"Shota?" he questioned, voice low and serious, contrasting starkly with shis previous anxious tune. "Were you...using your quirk?" He didn't know whether he should be ecstatic or deeply concerned. But, he was definitely using it; his hair was flared the way it did, and then there was that look… He couldn't explain it, even though he couldn't look into the man's eyes, he was sure there was that familiar red glow hiding underneath the scars.

"I'm not sure if I was or not," he admitted, genuinely sounding bewildered. "I-I wasn't...but I'm sure it was active," he stuttered, still trying to piece it together himself. Although he had just experienced it and gone through it, he still wasn't sure if it really even happened.

He pulled himself slightly away for a moment and lowered his head until his face was tilted downward.

"I could see…" he mumbled, mostly to himself and under his breath.

The blond's eyes widened as multiple emotions flooded him at once. It was overwhelming, really, and they all fought for dominance. "What?" he questioned in a whispering voice. Did he hear right? Surely the man was mistaken...that wasn't possible. They both knew it. "Did you hit your head?" he joked distastefully, the humored question came out automatically though.

At that, Shota took a step back, obviously out of offense. "Why the hell would I make something like that up?" he practically snapped. "No, I didn't hit my head, I know for a fact everything that happened." He took a deep breath, clearly he was still on edge, and he needed to calm down a bit before discussing anything. But first, there were other matters to attend to and he turned in the direction of the the downed villain.

"You should call the authorities."

"Right," Hizashi replied, already dialling away.

While he did that, Shota strolled in the general direction towards his apartment again. The whole way, the other hero never allowed his eyes to stray from his back. His gaze constantly snapped from Shota to the unconscious man, not sure which one was in a more dire need of watching. Then again...Shota did just defend himself, surely he was capable of walking back on his own. At some point, he'd have to step back some and give him room to stretch.

It didn't take long for the cops to show and things were swiftly left for them to take care of. The moment they had arrived, Hizashi saw himself off and trailed right after the other hero. There were so many questions burning him from the inside out.

He swallowed nervously as he drew closer, stopping just short of the man sitting at the bottom of the stairs. So, he didn't attempt to climb them after all. "You wanna head inside?" he asked, hand extended in preparation. He received a small nod in response and hummed lowly to himself as he reached down to help Shota to his feet. Surprisingly, he wasn't adamant about the offer and accepted it with no complaint. He must have been more shaken from the event than he was letting on.

But, on the way up, further assistance was denied and brushed off. After having ran down them, walking up them now didn't seem so bad anymore. It was a difficult thing to process, the fact that it took something like that to get him over such a minor fear like steps. Once more, the two of them were back on the couch, in the same arrangement as earlier and Hizashi's bags had been dropped on the table, long forgotten.

There was nothing but silence for some time, but neither of them minded at the moment. Shota leaned heavily against the other, knees drawn up while small and soothing circles were stroked along his back.

The touch faltered slightly when the dark-haired man shifted subtly and drew in a slow and anxious breath. The blond tilted his head slightly, knowing that Shota was finally about ready to start talking. "He...he just showed up," he started, not knowing of a better way to do so. "Just came right in...I didn't know what to do." There was an edge of defeat in his tone. Something that had no right to be there. Hizashi didn't understand how the man could still have such doubt in himself after what he just did.

"Well, you sure did something," he laughed lightly.

"Barely."

"But, you still did something. And, that's a start, right?"

Shota considered it for a few seconds and shrugged one shoulder. "Kinda. I mean, I didn't do it on purpose, I think instincts kicked in, muscle memory." 'Experience,' he corrected himself. It was his experience that saved him. "I activated it without even thinking...I got damn lucky is what I got. Because of that...I could make out things. Nothing clearly, but shapes and the like. Enough to know where things were." He let out a heavy breath before continuing, his tone carrying a completely different note. "I thought I was going to die…" he whispered. "For the second time this week, I thought I was done for."

"That didn't happen though because you still have the will to live and the heart of a hero," Hizashi confirmed without missing a single beat. It rolled off his tongue so easily and naturally, and he knew that was because he knew the words to be true. There was not an ounce of fabrication in any of that.

The other simply snorted in amusement. Forever the one to try and look at the positive side. Here he was calling dumb luck, but of course that man refused to see it as such. Stubborn as hell, though that wasn't to say it was disliked. Who knew, maybe there was some truth in it, maybe it was something he could never really be stripped of.

"You don't need quirks to be a hero," Hizashi shrugged. So nonchalantly. "If I recall correctly, you still took down those that weren't affected by your ability, so what's the difference now?"

"I can't see…"

"Minor details," the blond mumbled, waving a hand. "Besides, you said you could when you had it activated."

Shota nodded slowly. "I can a little bit...but everything is blurry, and it makes me feel like shit." He pressed himself closer to the other. "But, as long as I don't hold it for too long, it should be fine. But, that fight didn't even last that long, and so quickly it managed to wear down so much."

Hizashi hummed to himself lowly. "I'm sure it would get easier with time, you just have to get used to it is all...just like with any other quirk. It's like an adaptation of yours, isn't it? You had to get used to that one, so this one will be the same way." His reasoning made sense, and to be honest, Shota kinda hated just how much sense it made. All of his worries, they were being cast away by the man's uncharacteristic logic. This was supposed to be his thing. Frankly, it was annoying.

"Sometimes I hate how positive you are." The statement was void of any hostility.

"No you don't."

Shota took another deep breath and shifted in a way that he knew would encourage the other to continued with his soothing motions. It was successful to say the least, but it didn't last much longer before it was the other's turn to speak up.

"I should probably start cooking or else it'll be midnight before we get to eat anything," he mumbled, free hand rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, but the time I got there, I had a change of plans. Figured real food would have been a better idea." He wasn't really giving any options here, and he gave Shota's upper back a light pat, urging him to sit up so he could get to his feet. The movement was reluctant, but soon enough, Hizashi was freed and there was a light rustle of plastic as he retrieved his purchased goods and got right to getting things ready.

"Tomorrow, I want to go back to the school," the dark-haired hero said out of the blue after some time. "I know you're going to be against it, and I don't blame you after what happened today, but you and Nemuri are right. I can't let this take over my life anymore, and I realize now that it's going to take time to get used to. And...the only way that's going to happen is if I face my fears head on and prove to myself that things can be normal again. Or, as normal as they can be anymore.

There was a sting in his chest as he listened from the other room, but his reply was instant. "If that's really what you want. You're the only one that can make that decision, it's not something for me to say."

'I'd prefer if you waited a little bit longer. If not for yourself than your students.' The thought played in his mind automatically, but he couldn't bring himself to vocalize it. They had to bear witness to his episode, and that couldn't have been easy for any of them. And, if that were to happen again… Of course he didn't want him to go back, never wanted him to if it meant going through that everytime. Despite this, he still stood by his original response. It was up to Shota...not him.

"Plus...I want to talk to Shuzenji," he admitted. "I want to talk to her about my quirk. I'm not sure if anyone knows much about them being able to adapt...but if anyone does, I figured she would. I mean, it is possible, isn't it? Other things adapt to compensate for disabilities, and quirks are nothing more than an extension of ourselves. So, it would make sense for mine to change as well." He hoped.

Sure, he said that, but while he was there, they both knew he didn't have the self control to stay away from the classroom.

"Only if you're sure you're ready to go back," Hizashi added, not straying from the original topic.

"I'm sure."

* * *

The alarm clock sounded out, it's blaring noise easily roused Shota from his sleep. Though, to be fair, it hadn't exactly been the most restful of nights, not with the anticipation that continuously teased the edges of his mind every time he dozed off. He was too nervous to be tired, with the new discovery, it was like a beacon had been lit to signal the hope there was still there. It was a small flame, ready to go out with the slightest drizzle, but it was hanging on as much as it was able to.

This time, thankfully, he was able to get dressing in his own attire, the clothing he was most used to and felt most comfortable in. He quickly got dressed, pulling his dark outfit on with ease before strolling towards the bathroom to do something about the whole not showering in days. In retrospect, it would have made more sense to do that before getting dressed. He couldn't imagine how he must have looked. A single stroke down the length of his face was enough to let him in on how far south things had gone. He wasn't normally one to care about such things...but here lately, he wasn't sure, but he was a bit more conscious about them.

However, he paused a few feet from the door, he hadn't really thought about how he was going to do something of this magnitude on his own. Doing it completely in the dark was going to be rather tricky, and the idea of using his quirk just to shower...it was a ridiculous thing to consider. That, and it was far too early to be getting headaches and nausea like that again…

He must have been standing there for a while because, soon enough, footsteps approached him from behind.

"Need help?"

Shota hated just how quickly his face heated up and he bit his lower lip at the question. "Don't be an idiot, I can take a damn shower," he huffed, moving forward with new found resolve. Unfortunately, it swiftly dissipated when his toe came into contact with the porcelain side of the tub.

He shied slightly at the small sound behind him. "Do I have to ask again?"

As much as he regretted it already, he slumped his shoulders. "No, you don't. Just hurry the hell up and do whatever it is you're going to do," he blurted out, obviously flustered.

Shaking his head, Hizashi easily squeezed his way through. "Don't worry, I don't plan on getting in with you," he joked. "Unless, of course, you want me to," he said, suggestion in his tone. He couldn't help it, it wasn't often the guy got flustered like this, he had to take advantage of it when he could.

"Just shuddup and do your thing."

In no time, the water was started and Hizashi was heading back towards the door. "Just call if you need anything," he called back before pulling the door shut with a resounding 'click'. Finally, he was left alone, and with that, he made quick work of things, wanting to get finished up and out of there as quickly as possible.

The moment he walked out, there was no time spared before Hizashi had to make a comment. "Are you really planning on going back like that?" he asked. Your hair is all in your face and you look like you're homeless."

Shota said nothing, he knew Hizashi was just going to do whatever he wanted anyway; it was easier to just go along with it sometimes. Sighing heavily, he bowed his head in defeat and shrugged his shoulders in acceptance. Hizashi took him straight back to the bathroom and took over from there, going as far as to shave for him. And, as if that weren't bad enough, next his fingers were combing through his hair, pulling it away from his face. He couldn't prevent the tension that gripped at his shoulders at the knowledge that all of his features were on full display now.

Satisfied with his handiwork, the blond stepped back to take it all in.

"Perfect."

Shota simply gnawed on his bottom lip, and he hoped it didn't look as ridiculous as he felt it did. Both hands raised to investigate, and so far, nothing seemed too far out of place; his hair was pulled back into a simple bun, not too dissimilar from what he normally wore around casually. But, it was nothing he would have considered wearing to work, and he wondered why Hizashi had decided this was the most appropriate option.

"There's no need for you to hide yourself," the blond said once he stepped away, immediately answering Shota's unasked question. "And, if you ask me, I kinda like this look, it's quite suiting."

"If you say so."

He allowed his hands to drop to his sides and got back to his feet. "You ready to go now?" he asked, a tad on the impatient side of things. He wasn't sure if he was ready himself or not, but there was no delaying this. He had already made up his mind, and it was now or never. There was no way he was going to let yesterday repeat itself. Sure, not a lot of time had passed, but he felt like a different person in those short 24 hours.

"Yeah, I think I'm good to go," Hizashi called over, again wearing his hair down. After taking care of the other's appearance, there wasn't much time left for his own. It was no matter though, he would live. "After you."

Offering a small smirk, Shota made his way to the door and pushed it open. "Make sure to lock up this time," he said under his breath. Despite the comment being light-hearted, Hizashi felt a slight pang.

"Yeah yeah, I got it," he assured.

Together, and with much less awkwardness and difficulty this time, they eventually reached the school again. The moment the sounds of students reached Shota's ears, all the memories came flooding back, and he had to keep telling himself that it was different this time, that he wouldn't allow the same thing to happen. He just had to remind himself of the kids, if he gave up now, what kind of example would he be showing them? He knew his priority was jumping all over the place these passed few days, but there was no choosing one that should stand above the rest.

"I'm going to see Shuzenji first," he informed. If he did that, and she actually had answers for him, then it would make facing his class all the more easier. It would make explaining things easier.

"Ask and I shall lead the way," the blond replied in mocking servant fashion. To his surprise, Shota linked his arm through the others and offered him a complying nod. Returning the gesture, Hizashi guided him down the hall and straight to her office where he paused just outside. "Here we are. I imagine you'd rather speak with her alone, so I'll be right out here when you're do-"

The hold on him never released or so much as loosened. "No, I want you to come along as well," he muttered. "You said you'd be along for the ride through it all, right? Well, I think this is included in that promise."

His hand then drifted lower down, forcing their arms to separate, but immediately afterwards, his fingers wrapped around Hizashi's own grasp. Humming a confirmation, the latter pushed the door open and gave a slight nudge. "Let's do this then. And, just so you know, even if you don't get the answers you want, it won't matter. Things will work out in the end, whether things can go back to how they were or not. Understand, Shota? Don't let it get to you."

"I won't, I already learned not to get my hopes up," he sighed. "Don't worry, I'm not expecting a miracle, I just want a little bit of insight, is all."

The blond nodded to himself, just so that was clear. He was convinced he was just as nervous, if not more so, than Shota was. In fact, he had a strong feeling that short lecture of his was more for himself than anyone else. He wanted nothing more than to hear some good news, God new the man deserved it with all the shit he had been put through.

* * *

His heart was absolutely racing as he stood outside the door once again; it was like yesterday was playing all over again. But, he just had to keep reminding himself that it really was different this time. This time, he had more confidence, he knew that he wasn't as torn down as he thought himself to be. Shota took a deep breath and gave Hizashi a small nod, telling him that it was alright for him to leave now. There was no need for him to linger around, he wasn't going to need him for this.

The hero waited until the steps faded away before he finally built up enough courage to place the palm of his hand against the door, and took only a couple more to open it at last. Just like the day before, all was silent. Holding his head high, refusing to allow it to drop, he strolled to the front of the class and faced the lot of them as he leaned against his podium.

"Before anyone asks, yes, I am back for good," he announced, pleased that there was a lack of faltering in his words. "And no, I do not need more time." He took a deep breath and slowly released it. He knew the question was on all of their minds, knew it was itching in the cores of their beings. It was easier to just come out without.

"I'm sure you're all dying to know, and no, I will not be getting my sight back...that's gone. But, I doubt anyone expected to hear anything different. But, that doesn't change a thing, and it does not strip me of my hero status." He could feel it, all of their eyes staring at his face, at his scars, but he refused to let it get to him. He was over that, it didn't mean anything. People were going to look and they were going to stare. It was something he was just going to have to get used to.

Silence blanketed the room for some time as he let that all soak in. It was some heavy news for the lot of them. Hell, he was still trying to process it himself, and it was something he thought he had already come to terms with. Guess that wasn't the case though.

He cleared his throat nervously and straightened up a bit more. Despite the emotions fighting for dominance right now, he had to appear confident. "This may come as a shock, but I can still use my quirk." With that, he could hear more than a few sighs of relief. "But, before you all get your hopes up, I'm not sure it can really be called that anymore. I can still use it, but not in the same manner that I used to be able to." He wasn't sure how he should explain it to them. Would they take it as good news or bad? Which was it? He supposed it could be seen as either, depending on how you wanted to look at it.

"What is it?" Midoriya asked after some time. It wasn't until that that he realized just how long of a pause he had taken.

"Well," he started, folding his hands, "It allows me to vaguely make out my surroundings…" When it was said like that, it really didn't sound all that great. It mattered not though, if it allowed him to remain a hero and stay teaching at this school, then he would take what he could get. "I can't see completely, but I can see basic shapes and colors...enough to get by. Only downside is, I can't use it for long periods at a time, so I have to do so sparingly."

Quiet quickly rushed in once the last word was spoken, and it was clear that none of them knew what to say about all that. Honestly, he didn't want to talk about this anymore than he had to. So, the sooner he got it all out there and got it all explained, the better. He wanted to answer everything before they had the chance to ask so they could all just move on from this and move forward with their lives.

"Now, if no one has any questions...we should get started with today's lesson," he announced. "Obviously, it will have to be a lecture...as it will have to be everyday from here on out."

"That's fine with us," Uraraka chimed in, her usual positive attitude shining out.

"Just glad you're here to stay," another joined in.

There were a few more that spoke up in agreement, all of them saying about the same thing, expressing their relief at his return. He expected nothing less, and fortunately not a single one brought up the events from the day before. He was positive they each had their own questions and concerns, but none of them uttered a syllable.

Shota took a deep breath. "Look, I know this goes without saying, and should be obvious, but choosing this path...it has its risks. And, you all need to know what exactly it entails and the risks that are involved," he started, unable to refrain once the words began to flow out. "Everyone has their weak points, and not a damn one of is is invincible. All you can do is learn to cope with it and adapt. It's all we can ever do. When you're dealt a bad hand, or have all your cards stolen completely, the best you can do is find a way to work around it and make your own hand."

"Couldn't have said it better myself." The hero turned his head in the direction of the voice. He was pretty sure someone was standing there, and he knew exactly who it was before they said anything.

"I told you, you could go," he muttered, wishing he could roll his eyes in annoyance.

"Yeah yeah, I know, but I wasn't," Hizashi replied, strolling over. A second later, the other felt something soft and familiar drape around his neck, and it didn't take long for him to figure out just what it was. "I thought you'd like to have this back though."

The dark-haired man's hands raised to caress the material, and he ran his fingers over it. He had honestly thought it was long gone by now, but they had it all this time, holding on to it for him.

"That looks much better," the blond beamed. "Ok, I'm really going this time, and won't be back until later...unless you need anything, or I feel as if anything is wrong...or-"

"Mic…" Shota cut in, his face slightly heating up. "I get it, now go already," he hushedly instructed. Seriously, he didn't need to do this in front of his students. It was bad enough when he got all fussy and hovering when it was just the two of them. "I promise...I'll be fine. Now, go worry about your own class, will ya?" he joked light-heartedly. It was appreciated, really, but they both had to learn to let him be more independent.

Humming in compliance, the blond turned to exit, only to stop momentarily at the 'thanks' that teased the edge of his senses. He couldn't stifle the smile that tugged at the corner of his lips. And he didn't respond. He was sure Shota already knew it was nothing of concern. He had made that very clear plenty of times. The man would be fine, and it would only be uphill from here, he was positive about that. Of course, there were going to be bumps here and there, but that was to be expected. His statement still stood, no matter what, he would be there for Shota, there for every milestone and, just as he had promised, there for every step of the way.

* * *

 **Also, I know that last line was a bit cheesy, but I had to do it. xD Anyway, again, hope you all liked it and that it was satisfying enough of an ending. C: For a while I debated on how to close it off, but decided this was probably the best way to do so.**


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